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YOUNG FOLKS' LIBRARY OF AMERICAN HISTORY. 



COLUMBUS 



AND 



De SOTO. 



BY MARA L PRATT, M. D. 

Auilior of '' American History Stories," —" Cortes and Montezuma,"— Etc. 



. / 

BOSTON. — CHICAGO. /^^ ^ 
EDUCATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY. 

1891. 



t-i' 



Copyright 
By EDUCATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY 

1891. 



CONTENTS. 



Map 



Christopher Columbus ...... 

Plans of Columbus ....... 

Appeal to Spain 

Columbus and His Son at the Convent Gate (lUustmti 
Columbus before the Wise Men. (lUtistration.) 
Columbus Favored l)y Isabella . . . • . 
Columbus Appeals to Isabella. (lUustration.) 
Queen Isabella. (lUustration.) .... 

Columbus' First Voyage. ..... 

Taking Possession of the New Tiand. (Illustration.) 

Treachery to the Natives. 

Alonzo Pinzon. ....... 

The Return Voyage. ...... 

Columbus' Reception on his Return to Spain ( niuslrati 

The Second Voyage 

Treachery of the Spaniards ..... 

Columbus in Hayti Again 

Columbus' last Voyage 

Ferdinand de Soto . 

De Soto angers Don Pedro 

Don Pedro takes De Soto to America . ; 
The Spanish Colony 



n.) 



n.) 



4 CONTENTS 












Page. 

Dc Soto Fights a Duel > 76 


Uracca, tlie Indian Chief. 


. 








79 


De Soto Joins Pizarro . 










90 


The Death of the Peruvian Inca . 










91 


De Soto Returns to Spain 










96 


The Landing- in Florida. (lUu.stration.) 










99 


Ucita's Courtes}^ to De Soto . 










104 


Vasca Porcallo and Ucita . . • 










105 


March to Ochile .... 










108 


The Parade .... 










112 


A Second Conspiracy 










lU 


Onward! 










117 


Death of De Soto 










121 


Burial of De Soto. ( lUustrntion.) . 










122 


Poems 








. 


124 



Christopher Columbus, 



In the grand old sea-port town of Genoa, lived the 
little lad whom to-day the whole world knows as 
Christopher Colunilnis . 

He was a thoughtful l)oy ; and, as year after year 
he saw the ships come in, and heard the wonderful 
stories that the sailors told, there grew in him a long- 
ing to visit those tar away lands, a thirst for adventure, 
a hope that he, too, might lind a "new land." 

Christopher Colum1)us was not an ignorant boy. 
His father, although a simple w^orkingman, seems to 
have been intelligent ; a man who strove to keep alive 
in his children a love for education, and to give them 
all the opportunity within his power. 

Columbus had a fair, common-school education, as 
we should call it, and had given no little time to draw- 
ing, designing, and to the study of astronomy and 
navigation. 



8 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

It was when Colunil)U8 was a])oiit twentv-tive years 
of age that he was sent out in command of a squadron 
to aid a certain kino- in his struggle to recover his 
kingdom. There is little known of this conflict, as 
tar as Columbus is concerned, farther than that "the 
squadron of Columl)us gained much renown for its 
valor." 

In a letter to Ferdinand and Isabella, then king 
and queen of Spain, Columl)us gave a l)rief account 
of one of his adventures, when his vessel was sent to 
attack a galley in the har1)or of Tunis. In some way 
report reached the ears of his crew that this galley was 
protected ])y two other ships. " It would l)e fool- 
hardiness to attempt an attack upon a galley so armed," 
said they, "and we refuse to proceed." 

"Very well," answered Columl)us after a reasonable 
amount of arguing with his crew, " we will go back 
for re-enforcements . " 

But this was far from his real intention. So quietly 
altering the direction of the compass, he spread full 
sail. Night came on. Quietly they sailed on ; but 
when morning dawned, behold they were in the har- 
bor where the galley lay. History does not tell us 
what the result of this strategy proved to ])e ; so I sup- 
pose the lesson we are to learn from it is that Colum- 
bus was quick-witted, able in command, equal to an 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 9 

These were diiys of peril and hardshi}) for sailors ; 
pirates infested the seas, and every sailor had need of 
soldierly training as well as an understanding of nau- 
tical affairs. At one time Columbus was engaged in 
a most desperate sea-fight with one of these pirate 
vessels. The two vessels were lashed together with 
iron grappling-hooks, and both were AVrapped in flames. 
Not until the last minute did Columbus leave his ship. 
Then, when all hope was lost, he leaped into the rag- 
ing sea, and buoyed up by an oar, made his way safe- 
ly to the shore — six miles away. 

At such a time as this, Columbus received his sailor- 
training ; and this it was, that, in the years to come, 
fitted him for the hardships of his adventurous discov- 
eries and explorations. 



PLANS OF COLUMBUS. 

Columl)us was thoughtful. He had sailed far to the 
north, and had there heard vague rumors of a land 
far away, which had ])een visited by the sturdy North- 
men. Then, too, his habits of study had led him to 
doubt the theories of that time regarding the shape of 
the earth and the movements of the planets. In a let- 



10 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

ter to a friend, he once wrote, "For forty years I have 
been study ins:, trying to seek out the secrets of na- 
ture.*' And so it came a])out that it was to him that 
the revehition of the true shape of the earth and of the 
"new continent" was given. 

In hi^s wandering from sea to sea, and from port to 
port, he had often met mariners, intelligent, observing 
men, Avho had, as he had done, explored all seas and 
visited all lands then known to the world. From 
those who had sailed farthest west, he heard of drift- 
wood that had been found on the waters, different 
from any known growth. One sailor told Columl)us 
of two dead men who had ))een Avashed ashore far out 
upon the Azores, who were very different from any 
races of Europe or Africa. 

These, and other stories of these west w^ard voyages, 
hegan gradually to aAvaken in Columbus a l^elief that 
somewhere, far away towards the setting sun, there 
must l)e other lands, and perhaps other people. 

Columlius was (juiet, thoughtful, free from selfish- 
ness, given rather to dou])ting his own power than to 
pushing himself forw^ard. 

Night after night, when this idea was at last clear 
to him, he would sit pouring over the maps of those 
days, and studying the reports of sailors from every 
port. What was there beyond the Azores ! Was the 
earth a glol)e, and Avas there, perchance, another 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. ' 11 

country far, far away on the other side ? Would it be 
possible to sail around this globe — could that land be 
found? 

Then he put to work his knowledge of astronomy, 
estimated from the sun's speed on its journey across 
the heavens what must be the size of this earth, if 
indeed it should ])e proved that its shape was that of a 
sphere. All this study and discovery, all these esti- 
mations with their seeming proofs, which our self- 
taught philosopher was al)le to Inving before his hear- 
ers, beffiin to attract the attention of thous^htful men. 

Of course, there were many ignorant, unthinking 
people, who jeered at Columbus and called him a fool. 
Such men as he, to whom any revelation has lieen 
granted, am apt to ])e called fools l)y the common peo- 
ple ; and human nature was just as ignorant, and just 
as jealous and skeptical then as it is now. But Col- 
umbus had gras})ed a truth ; and all the ignorance in 
the world could not take it from him. 

Now, Columbus was a poor sea-captain, without 
money and without influential friends. Still, s})urred 
on by his own absolute confldence in his schemes, he 
went to the King of Portugal, laid his plans before 
him, and asked for money and a fleet with which to 
set forth upon a voyage of discovery. 

The king listened to his plans as he would have 
listened to those of an insane man, with wonder and 



12 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

amusement. When Columbus had finished, the king 
bowed him politely from the audience-room, with a 
smile half of scorn, half of pity, saying to himself, 
"He is a half-crazed creature. Quite prol)ably the 
hot sun of the tropics has turned his head." 

But there was something in the courteous, dignified 
])earing of Columbus that had impressed the king more 
than he would have l)een willing to acknowledge. The 
plans that Colum])us had presented would not be shut 
out from his thoughts. "If they are true," said he to 
himself, "What a glory it would l)e to me, as King of 
Portugal, to aid him in this scheme ! " Day after day, 
the king turned over and over in his mind the possi- 
bilities Columlnis had presented to him. At last, call- 
ing to him a certain well-known Portuguese sea-captain, 
he told him of Columbus, aided him in gaining all the 
additional knowledge possible, and then, with what 
the king had already learned from Columl)us, he gave 
the captain instructions to push on in the track which 
Columbus had marked out, and reach, if possi])le, the 
new land ; or, if there Avas no new land, to sail on and 
on to the Asiatic coast. 

A fleet was fitted out, and the captain sailed away 
— sailed away to steal Columl)us' glory from him. 
You will be glad to hear that the captain lost his way, 
that a terrible tempest arose, that the sailors set up 
such ii clamor that the captain was compelled to return 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 13 

to port and report to the king that his treacherous 
scheme had failed entirely. 

When Coluni])us was informed of this meanness of 
Portugal's king, he was bitterly disappointed that the 
royal court, on whom he had been taught to look with 
reverence, could stoop to so contemptible an act. 

"I will go to the Genoese Government," said he. 
" Perhaps there may be help there." 

" Who is this Christopher Columbus," said the Gen- 
oese Court, '^ that he comes to us? " 

"He is a sailor — one of our Genoese sailors," ay^is 
the answer. " The son of Dominico Columbus, the 
wool-comber." 

"The son of a wool-comber!" cried the Court, 
shocked that one from so connnon a family should dare 
urge a claim at the Grand Genoese Court. 

Columbus w^as now in deep poverty. He had hardly 
money enough to keep himself and his little son Diego 
from starvation. 

"We must go," said he, taking the little fellow up 
in his arms, "to the King of Spain. Do you think, 
my little man, that you and I can journey, perhaps on 
foot, to the camp where Ferdinand and Isabella are 
busy with the war against the Moors ? " 

What Diego's reply w^as w^e do not know. But, as 
he was a very brave little fellow, and had great faith 
in his quiet, gentlemanly father, we have no doubt it 



14 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

was a brave answer ; and who knows but it may have 
encouraged the disappointed man more than he knew ! 
At any rate, Columbus and Diego set f(n-th to seek 
the king and queen. They sailed from Genoa to 
Palos, and then began their long journey to the royal 
camp. 



APPEAL OF COLUMBUS TO SPAIN. 

Fortunately for the little Diego, they had advanced 
but a mile or two when they came to a great stone 
convent. Diego was hungry, and O, so thirsty. His 
tired little legs were growing rather heavy, and but 
for the brave little heart, determined to share his 
father's hardships, the tears, I fear, would have gone 
rolling down his cheeks. 

Knocking at the great gateway of the convent, Col- 
umbus asked for a cup of water and a slice of bread 
for his child. It chanced that the Prior was just then 
coming to the gate ; and when he noted the courteous 
manners, the dignified carriage, and the intellectual 
face of the stranger, he knew that it was no ordinary 
begger that asked for help. 

" Come in, good friend," said he, "and rest. The 
little one looks tired and hungry." 



16 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

Columbus gladly entered ; and, as we might well 
suppose, knowing how full Columbus' heart was with 
his plan, it was not long before the two men were in 
earnest conversation. Now, in those days, know- 
ledge was confined to a few people, Ayho had given up 
their lives to study, and had gone away from the world 
into convents where they might have the use of books, 
and might be taught by the few teachers of that day. 




THE PRIOR. 



The prior was one of these educated, thinking men ; 
and so, as Columbus unfolded his plans to him, set- 
ting forth his scientific reasons for the hope he had, 
the monk was able to follow him intelligently. In- 
deed, so convinced was he that Columbus was right, 
that he promised to use whatever influence he had in 
the church as a monk, and in the court as a man of 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 17 

learning, to aid Coluin])u.s in carrying out hi» pro- 
ject. 

Day after day Columbus and the prior pored over 
the convent books and maps, discussing whether 
the earth was a globe or merely a flat expanse ; 
whether by sailing around it Asia would be reached ; 
or whether somewhere, far out at sea, might there be 
a great unknown continent as large, perhaps, as the 
one already known. 

" Leave the little Diego here," said the prior, " and 
with letters of introduction which I will gladly give 
you, make your way to the camp at Cordova, where 
you will And Ferdinand and Isabella. I can not but 
think they will see the grandeur of your scheme, and 
will help you." 

Rested, and better still, cheered by this good man's 
helpful words, Columbus set forth. It was a marvel- 
lous military display that Columbus entered upon at 
Cordova. All the chivalry of Spain, gleaming and 
glittering in rich armor, was there ; the horses resplen- 
dent in their gorgeous mountings, the bright banners, 
the waving plumes, the grand, martial music — all 
these made the scene one of rare beauty. But Colum- 
bus hardly saw all this, felt no inspiration to join this 
mighty throng, no pride that Spain was so grand and 
powerful. He had a larger motive than that of going 
forth to kill his fellowmen. This inspiration had come 



18 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

from truth, and he had a work to do that shoukl bene- 
fit the workl. 

IsabeUa's chaplain, to whom the prior had written a 
letter introducing and recommending Columl)U8, 
received Columbus with ti coldness that might well 
have chilled the ardour in a man with a less import- 
ant cause to present than Colum])us had. ^' Even a 
slio^ht deofree of intelliorence and sense of thne and fit- 
ness of opportunity," said he, "might teach you that 
it would be ])ut an intrusion to present any plan, 
however great and i)ro])a])le, to say nothing of this 
absurd scheme of yours, to our sovereigns, oppressed 
as they are now with the cares of war." 

But as has always been the case in all history Avhen 
the cause has 1)een great enough to swallow up self, 
Columl)us i)ersevered regardless of the chaplain's 
scorn and refusal to acquaint the king and queen of 
his desires. He lingered about the camp, earning 
what little he could from day to day by designing 
charts and maps, telling his plans to any one intelli- 
gent enough to listen, hoping, yes, determined that in 
some way, sooner or later, he would gain an audience 
with the queen. 

Of course, like every man or woman, then and now, 
who catches the glimmer of a light l^efore it reaches 
the dull eyes of the world, Columbus was jeered at 
and called a fool, an adventurer, a lunatic — a crank, 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 



19 



as we say to-day. But now and then he found a lis- 
tener who could understand him, and who helped him 
with sympathy and understanding, though they had 
no money and no ships for him. 




COLUMBUS TP.LLING HIS STORY TO THE MONK. 

At last, report of Columbus' plan reached the ears 
of the grand Cardinal of Spain. This man had so 
much influence with the king and queen that he was 
often called the third king. 

He sought Columlnis out that he might for himself 
hear what the stranoer had to tell. Columbus, full of 



20 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

faith in his theory, told his story with enthusiasm, and 
with simple eloquence. 

"This man is no fool,*' said the Cardinal. "He is a 
thinker ; he is educated ; and he is not, as I have been 
told, a half-crazed dreamer. Plis plans seem plausil)le ; 
he knows whereof he speaks. The king and queen 
should receive him. There is more m his theory than 
idle fools can see." 

It was, therefore, through the cardinal that Colum- 
bus did at last obtain a hearing Avith the Spanish sov- 
ereigns. Again did Columbus, with outspread maps 
and astronomical charts, repeat his story. Not one 
point or question but he could meet with reasonable 
reply. The king, a cool, philosophical man, listened 
critically, carefully questioning and weighing every 
point. His ambition was excited. " If this man's 
story is true," said he, "think what glory, what 
wealth, what power will be added to Spain through 
his possible explorations and discoveries." 

But Ferdinand was a cautious man. "I will call a 
council," said he, "of Spain's wisest men; and they 
shall hear the story of this man Columbus, and they 
shall decide what shall be done." 

Columbus now rejoiced. The Cardinal and the 
King believed him. Certainly the Council would 
believe him too. 

Thet^e "wisest men of Spain" met Columbus, who, more 



22 CHEISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

and more tilled with enthusiasm with each recital, 
more certain than ever of the truth of his enterprise, 
repeated his story with the eloquence that is born of 
inspiration. It would seem to us to-day that a very 
child might understand. But alas for Columbus ! 
these wisest men proved his bitterest foes.- First the 
scientific men arose. "The theory of this man,*' said 
they, ''is absurd. Any one of common sense might 
know this earth is flat. Suppose, for an instant, it 
were round like a globe. Let us see what must fol- 
low. Why, if there were people around on the under 
side, then they must be walking with their feet up and 
their heads d(nvn. The trees must be growing with 
their l)ranches down and their roots u}). When it 
rains it must rain upwards. Everything must be up- 
side down, even if the people and the animals and the 
houses could stay upon the earth. But we know, 
moreover, that they would fall — down, down, down, 
we know not where. Our noble king is far too sensi- 
ble to be imposed upon by this half crazy wool- 
comber.*' 

Then some churchmen arose : '' We condemn this 
man's scheme above all, because it is blasphemous," 
said they. " It is in opposition to the teachings of the 
Bible, and that is enough. The Scriptures tell us the 
first people were born here on this side of the earth ; 
and thev never could have wandered around to the 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 23 

land on the other side of the earth even if there were 
any land to wander to. How could a ship sail up and 
back round to Spain again even if it could get down 
to this man's visionary land underneath. It could not 
be. But above all, we condemn this man for blas- 
phemy, for heresy, for contempt for the teachings of 
the Bible and the Church."' 

To all these arguments, if such foolish words can be 
called arguments, Columbus answered clearly and 
simply. But it was lost upon these Ingoted men. He 
was dismissed ; and the convention broke up, de- 
lighted, no doubt, with the brilliancy of their own 
logic. 



COLUMBUS FAVORED BY ISABELLA. 

it was a bitter disappointment to Columbus that he 
had been so unreservedly condemned in this conven- 
tion of "wisest men." For a time hope seemed dead. 
The council, however, had unwittingly done him ser- 
vice, in that it had 1)rought Columbus into public 
notice, and had set the whole country talking and 
thinking about him. And in spite of the decision of 
the Council, there sjn'ang up here and there men 
who dared claim that the Council had made a grave 
mistake. 



24 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

For more than a year C'()lum])us remained about the 
Court, still urging his elaim whenever he eould tind a 
listening ear. Again he was eondemned by a Couneil 
of "wise men." Wars arose, and Columbus was cast 
aside. " Intrude upon our sovereigns no further," said 
one of the Court, "until we are free from war at least.*' 

There seemed, indeed, little prospect of aid from 
Spain. Seven long years now he had s[)ent begging 
the government to aid him in a })roject which was sure 
to bring Spain nothing but honor and glory. 

" I will go again to the convent and see my ])oy 
Diego : then I will appeal to the French Court," said 
Columbus. 

Again, travel-worn and weary, his face now fur- 
rowed with care, his hair whitened, hi^ body bent with 
fast approaching age, Columbus arrived at the convent 
gate. The good prior received him with hearty wel- 
come. Again they talked over the belief of possible 
lands across the sea ; and when Colum])us proposed 
now turning to France for aid, the i)rior, more con- 
vinced than ever as the years rolled on, was arousied. 
"This glory must not pass out of Spain," said he. 
" Something must be done. How can the philoso- 
phers and the churchmen })e so short-sighted ? " 

Accordingly, he wrote a long letter to Isabella, 
urging her to consider well Columbus' claim, and to 
allow no })rejudice to blind her to the truth that seemed 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 



25 



SO clear. Now, this prior was a great t'rieiul of Isa- 
bella's, and was held in high esteem hy her. 

Isabella, thoug'h Aveighed down with cares, gave 
heed to the priof s appeal. 




THE PRIOR ON HIS WAY TO ISABELLA. 

"Come to me," wrote she in reply. " I would hear 
of this man and of his claims. I feel there is much 
of truth in them." 



20 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS 




COLUMBUS APPEALS TO ISABELLA. 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 27 

When this letter came, great was the rejoicing in 
the little convent. " I will set forth at once,*' said 
the prior, " and tell your story to our Queen." 

Now, Ferdinand was King of Aragon only ; and 
Isabella was Queen of Castile in her own right. She 
had, therefore, her own revenue, her own army, and 
her own court ; and was able to move in this matter, 
as in any other, freely and independently of Ferdi- 
nand. 

"I have never given this much thought," said she. 
"The Council met with Ferdinand the King, and, 
busy with other matters, I inquired little of this. But 
it interests me. It impresses me. You will send 
Columbus to me at once." 

Once more the star of hope seemed to have arisen. 
Presenting himself before the Queen, not as a beggar, 
but as one who oftered her a golden opportunity, he 
said, "I ask only for a few ships and a few sailors Avith 
which to travel w^estward over the now unknown 
ocean. I will thus hnd for your majesty a new and 
shorter route to India, and will open to you an 
unknown land, the wealth and })ower of which no man 
can estimate. In return, I ask only that I may be 
made Viceroy of what I may discover, and that I be 
granted one-tenth of the wealth that I may bring to 
Spain." 

"What audacity ! " cried the courtiers. "To make 




QUEEN ISABELLA 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 29 

terms with the Queen ! A mere beggarly sea-captain ! 
A common wool-comber ! " 

Influenced by these courtiers, the queen summoned 
Columbus again to her, offering to aid him if he would 
make his own demands less extravagent. 

But Columbus would not yield. "I go not as a 
hireling," said he with pride. 

Isabella was annoyed. She was willing to assist 
him; more than that, she desired to assist him; but 
to be dictated to as to her terms, was something new 
to her queenship ; and Columbus was dismissed with 
a great show of freezing dignity. 

N'ow, indeed, Columbus' last hope of aid from Spain 
was dead. Sadly he remounted his mule, and started 
upon his journey back to the convent. 

" I am not content to have dismissed this man 
Columbus,'' said she to Ferdinand. '^ The character 
of his mind, the grandeur of his schemes, his educa- 
tion, and his line l)reeding tell me he is no common 
adventurer. And if his story should be true, and 
some other country should aid him, what disgrace 
would be reflected upon us, and what a loss would it 
be to our country." 

"But war has cost us so much," said Ferdinand. 

" Still something tells me it should be done. Yes, 
and it shall be done. I will pledge my jewels to raise 
the funds ! " cried Isabella, moved by a sudden 
impulse. And, calling a servant, a courier was sent 



30 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

with all speed to overtake Columbus and bring him 
again to the queen. 

Now, these words of Isabella sound very heroic and 
self-sacriticing. They have made a pretty little speech 
to pass down in history l)y the admirers of this queen. 
But I am afraid we must admit that while they were 
genuine in their impulse, they were not so geniune in 
the spirit of sacrifice ; for when we read that in the 
recent war Isabella had filled her cofters to overflow- 
ing, by her almost perfidious conduct towards the 
Moors of Malaga, we have to acknowledge that there 
was little call for her to sacrifice her jewels. Still let 
us respect her impulse, and remember that, if she had 
not moved perhaps no one else would have, and 
Columbus, already old and broken, might have died, 
and so the result of his thought have been lost. 

Columbus, with l)owed head and heavy heart, was 
toiling across the sands, only a few miles advanced on 
his journey. Deep in thought as he was, the clatter- 
inof of the hoofs of the couriers horse did not reach 
him until he heard, "Columbus ! Columbus! In the 
name of the Queen I command you to return to the 
Court." 

For a moment Columbus hesitated. So long had he 
waited, so often had he been repulsed, he had little 
now Init distrust of both Spanish sovereigns. Assured 
by the courier, however, that the queen was really in 
earnest now, he turned back, half in hope, half in doubt. 



CHKISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 



31 



COLUMBUS' FIRST VOYAGE. 

When Isabella came to a decision she was quick to 
act. She at once summoned Columbus to her 
presence, and told him that she readily assented to all 
his demands, and that a Heet should at once be fitted 
out. 




SANTA MARIA, NINA AND PINT A. 



As the exiicdition was considered a^nono- the com- 
■■■ ~ 

mon people to ])e one of foolhardiness, it was not an 
easy thing to find a crew willing to risk the dangers of 
the voyaofe. Added to this, the ominous headshakinofs 
of some i)ersons, and the prophecies of disaster to any 
enteri)rise that was so plainly in opposition to their 



32 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

belief, so played upon the iii:norant superstition of the 
people that it was sometime ])efore the ships could be 
manned and all got in readiness for the departure. 

It was early on a l)right, sunny morning in August, 
1492, that Columbus with his little fleet of three ves- 
sels — the Santa Maria, the Nina and the Pinta — set 
out from the harbor of Palos. 

Columbus directed his course to the Canary Islands. 
For a time, and as long as 'the way was familiar, the 
crew behaved fairly well. But as day after day w^ent 
l)y, and land was no longer to be seen, mutiny began to 
show itself. The sailors were all ignorant, super- 
stitious men, many of whom had heen forced by the 
government into this service. Only the third day out 
and the rudder of one of the vessels mysteriously dis- 
appeared. Columl)us had good reason to suspect that 
it had been unfastened by some one of his cowardly 
crew ; but he wisely said nothing and quietly went to 
work to replace it. 

At the end of the seventh day the Canary Islands 
were reached. This was the farthest known limit of 
the world. For three weeks Columbus remained here, 
repairing his vessels and replenishing his supplies. At 
the end of that time the fleet set forth again, this time 
really out upon the " unknown sea.*' Hardly Avere 
they out of sight of the islands when a " dead calm" 
settled upon them. For three Avhole days did this 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 33 

last, and the vessels, wholly at the mercy of the waves, 
rolled and dipped upon the glassy w^ater. 

The sailors were terror-stricken. " Are we to lie 
here and die? "asked one. ''Are we beyond the 
reach of the wind ! " asked another. " We must be in 
shallow w^ater near the edge of the earth ! " cried 
another. 

"Perhaps we shall be rocked over, down, down into 
space ! " whined another, his knees shaking with fear. 

" It is as the people said," groaned another ; '' no 
good will come of such a sacrilegious voyage as this." 

" May the Father forgive us ! " cried another. '' He 
knows we would not have come. His curse will fall 
upon them that forced us to this," 

All this, together with the sullen looks and the 
angry mutterings, was anything but a help to Colum- 
bus, weighed down as he was himself with anxiety. 

Glad indeed was he when at last a still* l)reeze arose, 
and again the vessels were speeding along. The sail- 
ors were convinced that they were not beyond the 
reach of the winds, at least. 

So the days passed on. One night a meteor shot 
across the sky, falling with hissing rage into the ocean. 
Again the superstitious sailors were convulsed with 
fear. "This surely was a thunderbolt from heaven !" 

By and ])y they struck the trade winds. Again the 
seamen were terrified as the vessels were swept along 
from east to west. 



34 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 



" Now," said the sailors, "we are in the very centre 
of the home of the winds. They are angry Avith us 
that we have found their home." 




LOOKING FOR LAND. 



With such men as these, and with so much at stake, 
is it any wonder that Columbus resorted to all sorts of 
artifices to keep the crew from knowing the great dis- 
tance they had sailed. Two tables did Columlnis keep 
— one of which was accurate, the other only half- 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 35 

reckoned, with which he could keep the fears of the 
crew within control. 

Now there were signs of land. Great masses of sea- 
weed now and then appeared. Birds alighted on the 
mast-heads. A green l>ranch floated by. 

Great was the joy of all, Columlnis as well as his 
crew, when the cry of " Land I Land ! There is land 
ahead ! " rang out over the waters. 

All rushed to the deck. Sure enough I there was 
land ahead. During the night a strange light had been 
seen moving to and fro. Now indeed were they sure 
that land was near. As the sun rose, throwino- its 
light more and more l)rightly upon the land, they saw 
that there lay before them a l)eautiful, low island, rich 
in its wealth of tropical foliage. To the weary sailors 
eyes it seemed as if there never were such trees, never 
such green earth, never such a beautiful shore ! 

Out from the forest thronged the natives, chatter- 
ing and gesticulating in the wildest manner. The 
boats were lowered ; and Columbus, dressed in rich 
robes of scarlet, and with rich Castilian plumes, 
approached the shore. Such a wealth of flowers down 
to the very water's edge ! In the midst of them, 
Columbus knelt and gave thanks to God. His sailors, 
some of them truly penitent, others cringing, in the 
hope that their cowardice might be forgotten, knelt 
about him weeping, praying, rejoicing — all full of 




TAKING POSSESSION OF THE NEW LAND. 



CHRISTOPHER COLITMBUS. 



37 



wild delight that the perils were over, and that in 
spite of the croakings of the Spanish monks, they were 
safely on shore onee more. 

With most imposing ceremony, Columbus took 
possession of the new land in the name of Spain. The 
natives, timidly looking on, with awe-struck faces, 
watched every movement of the " people of the sky " 
as they l^elieved they were. By and by, finding that 
their visitors seemed in nowise inclined to do them 
harm, the natives came forward, bringing fruit and 
bread, and showing in every possible way through 
sign language, their desire to welcome their guests. 

All day long the sailors wandered about the island, 
eating the rich fruit, wondering at the strange homes 
of the natives, and admiring the grand 1)eauty of the 
forest. At night all returned to the ships. In the 
morning, at the first sign of life, a throng of natives 
plunged into the water and swam to the ships' sides. 
Kindly they were received, and after a short visit, 
during which they sharply inspected the " strange white 
birds" as they called the ships, they swam Imck, 
delighted as children with the liits of colored lieads 
that Columbus had siven them. 




38 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

TREACHERY TO THE NATIVES. 

In ti day or two Columbus set out with his boats to 
make a tour of the island. Everywhere he found the 
same beautiful foliage, the clear, sparkling waters, the 
abundant fruits. But Columbus, like his successors in 
Spanish explorations was looking for wealth. Rich 
foliage and sparkling waters were hardly gifts to carry 
back to Isabella. 

One morning, there appeared at the water's edge, 
some beautiful women decked out with bright feathers, 
and with bright yellow rings of gold in their noses. 
Eagerly Columbus approached them, and made offers 
to exchange his bright colored beads for the golden 
rings. "Here at last," said Columbus, "is an indica- 
tion of gold. We must find w^here it came from." 

Closely inquiring of the natives, they told him, or 
at least he thought they did, judging as well as he 
could from their signs and unknown words, that some- 
where, farther south, was a land of gold. There was 
a king there, so they said, who sat upon a golden 
throne and was served upon golden dishes. 

"We must seize some of these natives," said Colum- 
bus, " and teach them Spanish. We can never learn 
anything without interpreters. Seven men were 
accordingly chosen, and were carried on ship-board 
Some say these seven natives went willingly : but 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 39 

there is a story told of one, who, seeing a canoe-load 
of his people at a little distance from the ship, sprang 
overboard and swam to them so rapidly that the 
Spaniards could not overtake him. This story, if 
true, looks as if the natives were given very little 
choice as to whether they would serve their Spanish 
guests or not. 

A boat set off in ])ursuit of the canoe ; but reached 
it only in time to see its occupants flee into the forests, 
leaving the canoe upon the shore. The canoe the 
sailors took back to their ship, as a trophy to be 
exhibited by and l)y in Spain. This was a mean act; 
for the generous natives would gladly have given them 
more canoes than they could have carried ; and simple- 
hearted people that they w^ere, would have been proud 
that they had anything that seemed worthy to be 
carried away by these "people from the sky." 

At another time, a native, having lieard that the 
Spaniards would buy their balls of cotton, paddled up 
to the shii)'s side and held up a large ball for the 
sailors to see. The sailors, leaning over, and pretend- 
ing to examine the cotton, seized the poor native and 
dragged him on board. 

Columl)us, who had seen this mean act, ordered the 
captive to be brought to him. The poor Indian, 
trem])ling with fear, dropped upon his knees before 
Colum])us, holding up the ball of cotton, as if to say, 



40 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

"I meant no harm. I only wanted to change my cot- 
ton for a l>it of coh)red glass. O, children of the skies ! 
let me he free, let me he free I " 

Columbus, sternly relinking his sailors, gave the 
poor Indian a string of bright beads, placed upon his 
head a gay colored cap, and ordered him to be jnit 
into his canoe and allowed to return to the island. 

Columbus, it is said, was always kind to the natives, 
and was careful that his sailors, as far as he was able 
to command, should also l)e careful in their treatment 
of them. It would have been well had the successors 
of Columbus followed his policy in this respect, as 
well as in many others. 



ALONZO PINZON. 

Alonzo Pinzon was the commander of the Pinta. 
Being a man of equal intelligence in affairs of the sea, 
he had lent his wealth and influence most heartily 
to aid Columbus in his enterprise, and had, during 
the voyage, proved himself Columbus' "right-hand 
man," as we say. It was he who assisted Columbus 
in fitting out his ships ; it was he, who, during the first 
days of the voyage, when the superstitious sailors 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 



41 



were beside themselves with fright, encouraged and 
cheered them on with promises of reward ; it was he, 
who, hiter on the voyage, when there Avas gruml)ling 
and muttering and mutiny, helped Columbus to keep 
the crew in check, and make it possible to reach the 
newly discovered country. 




One would suppose from all this, that Columbus and 
Pinzon would have been the best of friends ; that they 
would have held their success so much a thing of com- 
mon interest and of common glory that separation 
would have l^een an impossibility. 

But the same old enemy, self, that is always getting 



42 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

in our way to make us do unworthy acts, seems to 
have taken possession of these two men. Columbus, 
good man as he was, began to grow a little jealous of 
Pinzon. He grew suspicious of him, thought he was 
a little too commanding, and hardly as willing to yield 
to Columlms' authority as he ought to be. 

Pinzon, on his side, thought thus : "I am not Col- 
umbus' follower. Was I not one of the chief workers, 
both w^ith money and with influence, in this enterprise 
of his ? What do I owe this man ? Does he not rather 
owe me money, labor, influence — everything that has 
made it possible for him to succeed in his undertaking ? 
And now he would make a mere hireling of me. 
We'll see. I shall show him that Alonzo Pinzon is no 
shive of his." 

For some time this feeling between these two men, 
who should have been the l)est of friends, had been 
grrowins: more and more bitter. Each was on the alert 
for some oflfence committed by the other. 

One night, when the three shii)s had been cruising 
about among the islands, Columbus, as usual, put up 
the signal to return to the harbor. But Pinzon paid 
no heed Avhatever. On he went, and when morning 
dawned, the Pinta was no where in sight. Pinzon had 
evidently gone on a cruise of his oAvn. 

Colum])us was annoyed and angry. Had Pinzon 
gone cruising al)out hy himself; or Avhat would be 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 43 

Tvorse still, had he set out for Spain, that he might be 
the first to announce the tidings of the great dis- 
covery, and so enjoy the glory that would l)e heaped 
upon him when the wonderful success of the voyage 
was known. "Little credit for its success," thought 
Columbus l)itterly, '' will he be likely to give to me." 

But it was of little use to pursue Pinzon's vessel. 
The ocean was far too large — and the ocean tells no 
tales. Columbus, therefore, continued his explora- 
tions from island to island, desiring now, more than 
ever, that somewhere he might find gold and silver, 
and so carry home to Spain something to weigh in his 
own favor over and alcove an3^1-eports, any mere word- 
pictures, Avith which Pinzon might endeavor to steal 
from him the favor of the Spanish sovereigns. 

On one island, he was told there lived a tribe of 
man-eaters — the Caribs, as they called them. On 
another island he found trees so large that the natives 
were able to dig out from one of them a canoe large 
enough and long enough to carry a hundred men. On 
another island, which he named Hispaniola (Little 
Spain) he found the natives livhig in houses with gar- 
dens, and these grouped in little villages. The people 
everywhere were friendly, welcoming the Spaniards 
always as wonderful beings just come from the skies ; 
and at Hispaniola the king, so Columbus wrote to 
Isabella, was so generously inclined, and so proud of 



44 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

his visitors that he everywhere presented Columbus 
to his people as " my brother." 

At one time, when the sailors were ramliling- about 
the island, they came in sight of a l)and of natives 
playing and laughing and racing with each other. At 
sight of the Spaniards, the islanders lied. The Span- 
iards gave chase. One beautiful young girl was cap- 
tured and carried to the ship. Poor, frightened child ! 
trembling like a leaf, she was l^rought ])efore Colum- 
bus. Again did he win the conhdence of the simple- 
hearted people, and the respect of all of us Avho read 
about him, by treating her with gentle kindness. 
Putting upon her a l)eautiful robe, and giving her a 
bunch of little tinkling l>ells, he l)ade his sailors 
return her to her people. '' It was vastly amusing," 
Columbus wrote, "to watch this young maiden 
strutting up and down the shore arrayed in her won- 
derful robe, and followed by throngs of admiring 
natives." A few days later, when Columl)us and his 
men went on shore, this same maiden Avas l)orne upon 
a sort of litter down to the shore to greet the Spaniards 
as they landed. She was still arrayed in her ro])e 
and was prouder of her little ])ells and the strings of 
colored ])eads than ever was a queen with all her 
costly jewels. 

Among all these people, Columbuji found great 
readiness and willingness on their part to give to the 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 45 

new comers anything and everything they owned. 
But Columbus never took advantage of their simple 
generosity. For every bit of gold, he always returned 
something from the ships which to the Indian should 
be of more than equal value. 

One morning, just as the sun was gilding the ocean 
with its golden light, a great canoe pushed otf from an 
island near l)y and darted forward towards the ships. 

In this canoe, gay ly arrayed in 1) right plumes and 
feathers, sat a messenger from the island chief. He 
brought to Columbus a beautiful belt, embroidered 
Avith beads, carved bits of iA^ory, and decorated Avith a 
little head, very neatly carved, and set Avith bits of 
gold. 

The am])assador 1)rou<>ht from their chief oreetinii:, 
and an invitation to come to their island to visit. 
Columlnis of course accepted this cordial iuAdtation. 
He found the chief liAnng in a beautiful toAvn, laid out 
with streets and a large, nicely-kept pul^lic square. 
From all the towns a])out, the natives thronged to see 
the people from the sky. "Their hospitality," Avrote 
Columbus, "might Avell have put to shame the hospi- 
tality of many a ciAdlized town." 

It was oft' the coast of this island, that Columbus 
vessel Avas one night Avrecked. And Avhen Avord of 
the disaster reached the island chief, it is said he Avept 
aloud. Then summoning all his men, he ordered 



46 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

every canoe, great and small,to hasten to the Spaniards' 
relief. The chief himself worked hard a T\;hole day 
and a whole night, helping to unload the sinking ves- 
sel. Standing over the cargo himself, he guarded it 
faithfully ; and not one article, tempting as it must 
have been, to the natives, was stolen. Indeed, there 
seemed no inclination on the part of any of the natives 
to carry away anything from the ship. The things 
were to the natives all wonderful and beautiful ; but 
the simple fact that they did not ])elong to them, 
seemed reason enough why they should not be taken ; 
and a certain noble sense of honor seemed to hold 
them above any thought of taking advantage of the 
Spaniard's misfortune. 

For sometime Columbus and his men remained upon 
this island. In comfortable houses, living upon rich 
fruit and the freshest of meat and tish, surrounded 
with every possi])le comfort, the sailors would hardly 
have rebelled had Columbus resolved to live on and 
on Avith no thought of return to Spain. But with the 
Pinta gone, he knew not where, the other ship wrecked, 
Columbus felt that it would be wisest to hasten to 
Spain before some disaster overtook their one remain- 
ing vessel. 

And so, leaving a little colony who should await his 
return, he sailed away. 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 47 

THE RETURN VOYAGE. 

It was in January that Colum])U8 set forth again to 
cross the water. Baffled by cahns and liead- winds, 
the little vessel made its way l)ut slowly out from 
among the mountains. Hardly had it sailed fifty miles 
when the pilot cried, "The Plnta I the Pinta ! " 

Sure enough, there was the Pinta, At once a sig- 
nal was run up which this time Pinzon readily obeyed. 

It was a weak sort of an excuse Pinzon had to offer 
for his desertion, which, even if Columbus had ])een a 
little unfair in his treatment of him, was not quite an 
honora])le thing to do. 

Columl)us was not at all deceived h\ his excuses ; 
but accepted them Avithout relnike, thinking it policy 
just then to have no trouble with Pinzon. 

The truth of Pinzon's disertion was this : An Indian 
had told him of a rich mine, a short distance from 
where the vessels were, and he, his greediness aroused, 
conceived at once the plan of finding this mine, speed- 
ily filling the vessel, and returning to Spain with his 
precious freight. As an excuse for separating him- 
self from his commander, he proposed to say that a 
storm had drifted them apart, and that l^eing unable 
to find him, he had at once loaded his vessel and set 
forth for Spain alone. 

No mine, however, had been discovered, and now 



48 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

Pinzon had sailed l>ack to Hispaniola in search of the 
other ships. 

The return voyage was one of peril. Storms and 
calms followed one after the other in swift succession. 
Black tempests, roaring billows and dense darkness so 
confused the leaders that their reckoning was lost. 

After one terrible night, during which the ocean had 
dashed with maddened fury against the frail vessel, and 
nothing could l)e seen or heard save its fierce, white- 
capped crests and their deafening roar, Columbus, far 
more concerned that the knowledge of his discovery 
should be saved than that he should live to bear it to 
the queen, Avrote an account of it, sealed it in a strong, 
water-tight cask, and threw it overboard, hoping that 
someway it might fall into honest hands, and ])e 
delivered up to the sovereigns of Spain. 

But Columbus and his crew were not to be lost. 
The storm cleared, and the vessel made its way in 
safety to Spain. 

You may be sure Columbus and his men were glad 
indeed to sail again into the harl)or of Palos. 

Such an excitement as was created all through 
Europe. The glad tidings swept like a mighty wind 
over Spain. Bonfires l)lazed from every high place, 
church bells rang, salutes were fired. 

In the midst of all this joyous celebration Pinzon's 
vessel , which had been lost sight of during the terrible 




COLUMBUS' RECEPTION ON HIS RETURN TO SPAIN. 



50 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

gales, now came sailing up the liar])or. Driven by 
wind and wave it had made its way to the Bay of Bis- 
cay, from whence it now came. 

Bitterly now did Pinzon regret his ignoble ])ehavior. 
Generous as he had ])een with his Avealth, valual)le as 
he had been Avith his aid, it seems a pity that this one 
error of his should now steal from him the honor 
really due him, and plunge him into such disgrace. 

Sailins: into the harbor midst all this enthusiasm over 
the arrival of Cokimbus, and knowing how little of the 
good will Avould the people give to him, he hurried him 
self into a small boat, secretly landed, and made his 
way to his own home. 

Pinzon was in deep disgrace. He was forl)idden to 
appear at court ; and, indeed, little courage had he to 
appear even in the streets of his own city, so deeply did 
he feel the scorn that the connnon people were so ready 
to pour out upon him. 

Pinzon lived onl}' a short time. Crushed by the 
sense of his own folly, and stung ])y the jeers and 
laughter which everywhere greeted him, he sickened 
and died. 

Let us remember that in everything ])ut this one 
act of desertion Pinzon had been bra\^ and true, and 
was by no means deserving of quite so much disgrace 
as was h<3aped upon him. I have always been glad 
that, at a later day, in recognition of his valuable ser- 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 51 

vices, hi8 family Avere highly honored ])y the court, 
given the rank of nobility and a coat-of-arms, sugges- 
tive of the great discovery which, in no small part, 
Pinzon had helped to make. 



THE SECOND VOYAGE. 

Columlnis for the time being was indeed the hero of 
the world. The people of Genoa, that so shortly before 
had called him an ignorant wool-coml)er, now began to 
boast that Columbus was a Genoese. Spain puffed 
herself that she had rendered him the aid he asked for. 

England quoted loudly the fact that an ambassador 
of hers had been, at the very time Isabella had recalled 
Columbus to court, far on his journey Spain-ward to 
offer Columl)us her support in his plans for sailing 
around the world. All the friends who had ])elieved 
in him l)efore he sailed, now strutted about, glorifying 
themselves in his reflected light. And even those who 
had scoffed at him and jeered at him, managed by 
great stretch of conscience and of memory, to recall 
some little word, of approval or of encouragement that 
they had given him, which should now ])e made to 
redound to their own honor. "O, there's nothing 
succeeds like success," some one has humorously 



52 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

remarked. And wouldn't you suppose that after a 
time human nature would learn to be cautious, even 
if it can't be generous, when scmie one like Columbus 
comes forward with some great thought, some great 
plan, some great invention, Avhich, at the time, does 
seem almost impossible to be proved true. Let us 
remember this : — there never yet has l)een a great man 
or a great wornan but the world has sneered at, scoffed 
at, and called either a knave or a fool. It should 
teach us to be careful lest we do the same thing : and, 
like the scoffers at Columbus, tind ourselves eating 
very " humble pie '' after the opportunity to be gener- 
ous has gone by. 

When Columbus started on his second voyage, 
there Avas no lack of money, or vessels, or of sailors, 
you may be sure. He had quite as much troul)le now 
in this liood of encouragement as he had previously 
had in the drought. 

One of the men who w^ent on this second voyage 
with Colum1)us, was named Ojeda. He was of noble 
birth, had been brought up under the care of a distin- 
guished duke, one of the richest and most influential 
in all Spain. Ojeda was a most reckless cavalier; one ' 
who seemed to know not the meaning of the word fear, 
but seemed rather to rejoice in the wildest, most dan- 
gerous ad ve nture s . 

On this voyage the fleet put in at the Antilles. Here 



^ CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 53 

they found, so some of our histories tell us, an iskmd 
of man-eaters. These man-eaters ravaged the island, 
killing- the aged, stealing the strong, young maidens 
to hold as slaves, and eating the young men. A small 
party of Spaniards went to explore this island. It 
was long past the time for them to return, still no sign 
of them. Colum])us was alarmed. Trumpets were 
blown, guns were tired ; Init no reply came to their 
signals. 

Then Ojeda volunteered to make an exploration of 
the island. The island was searched for days, ]>ut 
the lost ones could not be found. It was with a sad 
heart that Cohim])us prepared to sail away. Just 
then the men appeared. Ragged and hungry, their 
appearance was pitiful. They had been lost in the 
tangled thickets of the forests, and only with the great- 
est difficulty had made their way out, 

On another island, when the Spaniards landed, the 
people, — Caribs, fought with desperation — men and 
women alike. The canoe from which they were hurlino- 
their arrows was overturned; still they fought on, 
hurling their arrows seemingly as rapidly as from their 
boat. They were captured at last. Such hideous 
creatures ! long, straggling hair, wild eyes, their faces 
daubed with paint. They were like wild animals ; and 
though strongly bound, they behaved like caged tigers, 
clankins: their chains and yellinof and howlino-. 



54 CHRISTOPHEK COLUMBUS. 

From here Columbus sailed on to islands he had 
discovered in his first voyage. One night, as they 
" lay to " not far from the shore , a canoe came towards 
the vessel. An Indian stood in the bow. Coming up 
close to the ship he asked for Columbus ; nor would 
he come on board until Columbus himself appeared on 
deck. 

He came to tell Columbus that the island upon 
which in his first voyage he had left a little colony 
of Spaniards, had been attacked, many of the natives 
killed, and the chief himself severely wounded. 

The next day Columbus went to the island, but 
found the towns in ruins. Could it be that the good 
chief had been treacherous? Or had the Spaniards 
driven the natives to desperation by some cruel domi- 
neering behavior on their part. Columbus almost 
feared it might be the latter. Clearly had he warned 
the men that both for policy's sake and because it was 
rights they should be fair in their treatment of the 
simple-hearted natives. 

It was sometime before any reliable report could be 
gained. The truth came out, however, at last. And 
the trouble was, as it always was afterwards in the 
annals of Spanish doings in this country, all due to 
the perfidy of the Spaniards. No sooner had Columbus 
gone, than these men began a series of petty persecu- 
tions upon the natives. The natives and the neighbor- 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 55 

ing tribes endured it as iono- as they could. Then an 
attack was made upon the Avhite men and everyone of 
them sUiin. 

So the cruising about the islands went on. Col- 
onies Avere founded, gold was collected, and the time 
came when Columbus thought it wise to return to 
Spain. There had been many pleasant things connected 
with this voyage, but there had been much that was 
disappointing, heart-sickening, discouraging. 

As he sailed away, he was overtaken by a canoe in 
which were an Indian and his family. 

" Good friend," said he, coming up to the side of 
the vessel, " we wish to go Avith you to your land. 
We wish to be under your protection, and become 
subjects to your king and queen." 

Columbus looked upon these Indians with compas- 
sion ; and when he thouo'ht what unfair treatment, 
what slavery would l)e their share in his country, he 
had by far too great compassion on them to allow 
them, innocent and ignorant as they were, to be car- 
ried away from their native land. So loading them 
with presents, and promising that in some future time 
he would come again, he sent them back to their 
island. 

The voyage to Spain was as perilous as had been 
the first return. Tempest assailed them, the fleet was 
scattered, and the crew suflered bitterly from cold and 



56 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

starvation. Columbus, working .side by side with the 
sailors, Avorn out with toil and suffering, overtaxed 
with anxiety, was stricken with illness. In a state of 
unconsciousness, he was borne from the vessel on its 
arrival at the Spanish port, into the presence of the 
sovereians. 



TREACHERY OF THE SPANIARDS. 

As soon as Columbus had sufficiently recovei'ed to 
be able to cross the ocean again, he was anxious to get 
back to his colonies. He had many 1)itter enemies — 
envious, jealous men — both in Spain and at the town 
of Isabella, which he had founded and had made a 
centre ; but he had equally strong friends. It was 
fast coming to be a question which party should suc- 
ceed before the sovereigns. The lightening never 
strikes the grass, you know; ])ut if one puts his head 
above, standing out as Columbus did, like the grand 
oak, he must know that he makes himself a target for 
the arrows of hate . 

When Columbus came away from the island of Hayti, 
he had left a Spaniard there with four hundred sol- 
diers to explore the island. 



CHKISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 57 

Don Pedro Margarite was the Spaniard's name. 
Kegardless of the instructions of CoUimhus, he began 
at once to take possession of anything and everything 
on the ishmd that suited his fancy. The Indian dwell- 
ings were robbed, the maidens stolen, the children 
massacred. 

Report of this unwarranted ])ehavior reached the 
ears of Columbus' brother who was in charge in 
another island. But the proud Spaniard sent back 
the reply that he did not propose to be subject to 
wool-coml)ers. 

He paid no heed to the warning, but plunged into 
cruelty more deeply than ever. 

At last, the natives, goaded to desperation, rose in 
rebellion. A confederacy was formed. Thousands 
of warriors marched against Margarite and his l)and. 
A terrible insurrection was at hand. Ojeda, like a 
fanged wolf, leapt madly into the fiercest of the con- 
flict. 

Margarite, angry that Columlms should be in control 
over him, hastened to the town of Isabella, and plot- 
ting with other nobles there, who now that the poor 
wool-comber had met the peril and liorne all the hard- 
ship of discovery and exploration, were ready to 
destroy him, seized upon several of Columbus' vessels 
and sailed for Spain. They reached there shortly 
after Columbus had been taken into the presence of 



58 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

the sovereigns, and taking advantage of his illness, 
they raised a general clamor against him. 

Sadly did Columbus listen to stories of Spanish 
cruelty and of the Indian uprisings. His only thought 
was of how peace was to be restored. 

There was one Indian chief of influence to whom 
CoIum])as appealed. He sent messengers to him, 
and assured him that the cruel behavior of the Span- 
iards had l)een contrary to his commands, and that it 
was his desire to live in peace with the natives. 

There was one chief, Caonabo, the leader in the 
confederacy of natives, and the fiercest of warriors. 
"And I," said Ojeda, "am the fiercest of Spaniards." 
There was between these two a sort of fascination. 
"I will capture this chief," said Ojeda, "or he shall 
capture me." 

So, selecting ten companions, all mounted on most 
powerful horses, they plunged into the forests and 
bore down upon the village in which Caonabo lived, 

Approaching him with great show of reverence, 
Ojeda said, "I come from Columbus. I bring rich 
presents and implore you to cease from quarreling, 
and to agree to terms of peace." 

Caonabo had suffered terribly from this cruel war- 
fare, and was not unwillingtomaket^rms with his foe. 

Ojeda quickly saw this, and so pressed his plans 
farther. 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 59 

" If you will come to Isabella," said this scheming 
young Spaniard, " you shall receive the highest of 
honors from Columbus. You shall be loaded with 
presents, and Columbus himself awaits you." 

Still the chief hesitated. And now came Ojeda s 
master-stroke. "My chief," said he, "bade me tell 
you that he had long known your liking for the bell 
that hano-s in the tower of our chapel at Isabella. 
And he wished me to tell you that already workmen 
are prepared to take it down from the tower that he 
may be able to present it to you." 

This was irresistible. The chief now consented to 
go with Ojeda to the Spanisn town. 

When the time came for departure, behold, Caonabo 
brought with him a great number of his fiercest war- 
riors. 

"AVhy these warriors?" said Ojeda, suspicious that 
Caonabo, too, might be playing a double game. 

" It is not becoming that so great a chief as I 
should go into the presence of so great a chief as 
Columbus without attendants," replied Caonabo sim- 

As they went on their march, Ojeda produced a set 
of steel hand-cuffs. 

" What are those ? " asked Caonabo, his eye attracted 
by their glitter. 

" Ornaments," answered Ojeda carelessly. " Would 



60 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

you like to take them? We Spaniards wear them 
only on grand occasions." 

"Let me take them," said Caonabo. 

"Mount this tine horse behind me," said Ojeda^ 
" put on the ornaments on your wrists, and we will 
ride into the presence of Columbus." 

Caonabo mounted, the manacles were placed upon 
his hands — the great chief was a prisoner. 

Then with a rush, the cavaliers gathered around 
him, bayonets were pointed, and away the com[)any 
galloped, leaving the attendants staring in open- 
mouthed wonder. 

Bitterly did Caonabo deplore his captivity. One of 
his brothers, raising an army, marched against the 
Spaniards.' But Ojeda fell upon them with such fury, 
the terril^le animals on which they rode snorted and 
pranced so wildly, and the tierce blood-hounds did 
such deadly havoc, the poor natives were soon put to 
rout. 

Meantime, Maroarite and his friends had succeeded 
in stirring up suspicion against Columbus in Spain. 
A commissioner was sent over the water to see if the 
stories reported against him were true. 

Columbus listened to the story of the commissioner 
with dignity, and at once set out for Spain. 

Reaching: there he was received with kindness bv 
the sovereigns. Another fleet was promised him, and 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 



61 



all seemed at peace again. But Columbus had many 
enemies at court, and these came more and more to 
have influence with the king. He looked upon Colum- 
Ims with suspicion. Isabella only remained firm in 
her confidence in his honorable dealings. 

Months passed, and Columlnis was still waiting. 
The insolence that from time to time, he received from 
his enemies drove him sometimes to distraction. Many 
a time he resolved to go not one step farther in his 
enterprise . 

After two 3^ears of waiting, he at last set forth for a 
third time. 

Again he had a perilous voyage, and at its end 
found the colonies in a far Avorse condition than ever 
before. The Indians had, thanks to the cruelty of the 
Spaniards, groAvn more and more hostile ; sickness 
prevailed ; supplies had given out, and misery and 
wretchedness everywhere abounded. 




62 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 




COLUMBUS IN HAYTI AGAIN. 

A low Spaniard, named Roldan, had formed a con- 
spiracy against Columbus. With a hand of followers 
in character like himself, he set forth on an expedition 
robbing the natives, burning their homes, killing their 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 63 

children — all for the mere amusement of it and for 
the gratification of their low, cruel natures. 

There was nothing Columbus seemed able to do to 
stop them ; and when the crew from three of the ves- 
sels he had brought over in this third voyage joined 
them in a body, Columbus was indeed heart-sick. 

And now came a man named Amerigo Vespucci. 
Ojeda was with him, and together they proceeded to 
attack the islands, capture the prisoners — all without 
reference to Columbus, who still held, or supposed he 
did, the governorship of all lands not yet discovered. 

Columlnis was not a little disturbed l)y this, and 
sent Roldan, with whom he had made a half-satisfac- 
tory peace, to meet Ojeda. 

These two cavaliers were well-matched, l)oth for 
daring and for lack of principle. Ojeda met Roldan 
boldly, showed papers from the king, proving that he 
had permission thus to take possession, and ordered 
Roldan to go back to Columbus with this report — 
that he Avas fast losing favor in Spain, and that he 
himself had been sent over for the express purpose of 
bearing intelligence from the king Avhich might not be 
pleasant for him to hear. 

Columbus' command was really at an end. No one 
obeyed him now. A conspiracy to assassinate him 
was on foot, At last a new governor was sent over 
by the two soverigns. He seized Columbus and threw 



64 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

him into prison. Like ii criminal he was paraded 
through the streets, to be stoned and jeered at — and 
all this degradation because of the treacherous stories 
of men like Ojeda and Roldan ! 




COLUMBUS IN CHAINS. 



Chained, he was sent back to Spain. The captain 
of the ship, indignant at such brutal treatment, would 
have removed his chains. But Columbus said ''In the 
letter sent over by my successor from the king and 
queen, they bade me ol)ey the new governor, Boba- 
dilla. By their authority he claims to have put me 
in chains. Then I will wear the chains until they 
themselves shall free me." 

You will l)e glad to know that when the king and 
queen heard of the action of Bol)adilla, they were 
indignant, indeed. " We gave him no such authority,'* 
said they ; "and he must at once be recalled." 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 65 

When Isabella met Columbus, she burst into tears. 
This touched the heart of the kind-hearted, well- 
meaning Columbus as no reproof could have done, 
and he fell on his knees before her, sobbing like a 
child. 

As soon as possible another governor was sent to 
supercede Bobadilla ; but it was a discouraging task 
to attempt to bring anything like harmony out of the 
condition on the islands now, so thoroughly were the 
natives aroused to vengeance. 



COLUMBUS' LAST VOYAGE. 

Once more Columbus set forth for the land of his 
discovery. He was now an old man ; and though 
broken in health, and exhausted by anxiety and care, 
his active brain seemed tireless. 

As Columbus sailed into the harbor, he met Bob- 
adilla sailmg out. His ship was loaded with gold 
which had been stolen from the unhappy natives, and 
with this Bobadilla hoped to gain the favor of the 
king. 

It was a beautiful day, but Columbus with true 
mariner's foresight, knew that a storm was brewing. 



66 CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

Kindly he warned Bobadilla, but received froni him 
only insults in return. Bobadilla sailed forth. Soon 
the storm arose, and Bobadilla and all his crew were 
sw^allowed up in the raging billows. 

Again Columbus saw the same picture of woe and 
misery on the islands, the same scenes of l)rutality 
and cruelty among the Spaniards. His heart sank 
within him. Shipwreck drove him upon a hostile 
island. Sick and half starved, he called one of the 
natives to him and said, "Our God is angry with you 
that you do not In'ing us food. He will to-night hide 
his face from you. That will be your warning. Then 
if you do not help us, some terrible curse will be sent 
upon you." 

The Indians listened in amazement. Some laughed, 
others were frightened. 

But sure enough, when the moon was up high in 
the heavens, its light began to wane. Darker and 
darker it grew. The Indians fell prostrate upon the 
ofround, begfo^ino^ Columbus to intercede for them with 
the angry God. 

Columbus pretended to hesitate, saying that he 
doubted if God would forgive such awful sins as these. 
The Indians grew more and more frightened. Pro- 
visions were brought from every dwelling, and laid at 
Columbus' feet. Then the moon began to come out 
again ; and the panic stricken Indians returned to 



CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 67 

their dwellings, promising never to hold hack help 
from the " sky people " again . 

The new governor all this time would not allow 
Columhus to enter the port, and the old man found 
himself little l)etter off, and no more held in respect 
than when under Bobadilla. 

So time passed on. The new governor governed 
all. And even when, by and ]\v, Columlnis was 
allowed to enter port, he was everywhere treated with 
insult and indignity. 

At last he returned to Spain. He went at once to 
Seville. Wretchedness followed him there. In utter 
poverty, he appealed to Isabella. But she lay dying, 
crushed with the griefs and disappointments of her 
own sad life. Seeing her friends gathered about her, 
she said, "Do not weep for me, nor waste your time 
in prayers for my recovery. I do not wish to live." 

The death of Isabella was a great blow to Columbus. 
No one now remained in whom he could trust. Faith- 
fully he told to the cold-hearted Ferdinand the story 
of his last voyage, but not one word of encouragement 
had the king for his faithful servant. 

A few months longer, spent in the deepest physical 
agony and the most bitter poverty, and Columbus 
died. Knowing that death was near at hand he said, 
" I welcome thee, O, death! You free me from the 
wretchedness of life. And into thy hands, O, Lord, 
do I commend my spirit." 



C^f^ CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS. 

His remains now rest in the cathedral at Havana ; 
and the world is just now beginning to appreciate how 
crood a man for his times he was, and is willing at 
last to render him the homage that seems so justly his 
due. 




Ferdinand De Soto, 



"Such a quaint, simple little village!" That is 
what travelers say of the little village of Xeres in 
Spain. And indeed it is quaint and simple. It is 
one of those quiet, nestling little villages, lying at a 
long distance from any railroad routes. A village 
that, unmolested by new people ;ind new fashions, has 
eone on and on year after vear, chaniiino* in no way 
except to grow older and grayer, and quieter. In- 
deed, after the bustling life and flurr}' of European 
cities, it is like slipping back into the quiet of the 
past century to come upon this little village. 

On the outskirts are several gloomy weather-beaten 

69 



70 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 

old castles, and it was in one of these that, as a child, 
Ferdinand de Soto lived. He belonged to a noble 
Spanish family ; but in the little Ferdinand's day, the 
family were so reduced in wealth that, notwithstand- 
ina- their nolde blood, they were reduced to the most 
plebian poverty, and were often at a loss to know 
even from what source the next breakfast w^ould come. 
Still, because of their "rank," and the foolish ideas of 
the time, regarding labor, this family could not for a 
moment think of such a thing as honestly joining the 
working classes, or allowing their son to " learn a 
trade ;" or to take i)art in any of the lines of life 
which, though not aristocratic, would have served 
very well to give the family more comfort than their 
"rank" seemed a})le to give. 

And so the little Ferdinand, too poor to associate 
with his own class, and far too noble ( ?) to associate 
with the village boys, s])ent his boyhood days in idle- 
ness and seclusion. 

He Avas a very handsome boy, tall and straight, and 
remarkably strong and quick in action. 

When a young lad, his beauty and fine figure at- 
tracted the attention of a wealthy Spanish nobleman 
who sent him to a University to be educated. He 
remained at the University for six years, learning, not 
what, to-day, l)oys and girls learn in a University, but 
the things which in those days it was considered so 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 71 

important and grand to know and excel in — fencing, 
shooting, wrestling. 

In these arts, the beautiful youth gained high 
honors. In the tournaments, then the fashion, Ferdi- 
nand de Soto was altogether the fashion. Old men 
beamed approvingly upon him ; ladies smiled upon 
him and poured out their admiration in enthusiastic 
praise : and little boys listening to his wonderful feats 
were tired with ambition to be like him. 



DE SOTO ANGERS DON PEDRO. 

Don Pedro de Avila was ])roud indeed of the lad, 
and took no small credit to himself that he had been 
so wise and far-sighted as to have deemed it w^orth 
while to lift this boy from his low position and edu- 
cate him. He received him into his own family and 
treated him as though he were his own child. 

' De Soto, however, had the ill taste — so Don Pedro 
thought — to forget his humble origin; to forget his 
dependence on the bounty of his foster-flither, and to 
presume to fall in love with Don Pedro's beautiful 
daughter Isabella. 

" You — you — dare ask for my daughter's hand ! " 



72 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 

thunciered Don Pedro, when De Soto told his story of 
love for the daughter. " You — penniless — dependent 
on Isabella's father for your very bread ! You dare 
aspire to my daughter's hand I Away ! " 

De Soto's pride was keenly wounded. 

"I, too, am a man of noble birth I'' replied he, his 
dark eyes Hashing, ''I am a knight of goodly fame. 
My family equals the family of beautiful Isabella, sir, 
in all except wealth. I dare^ because of noble birth 
and honestly acquired fame, aspire to your daughter's 
hand." 

"Audacious! insolent!" hissed the angry father. 
"Away ! away ! Leave my castle ! Look upon my 
daughter, exchange one word with her, and" — 
clutching at his dagger — ''you pay for it with your 
life." 

Frantic with rage, Don Pedro summoned his daugh- 
ter before him ; pouring out u[)on her such a volley of 
abuse and threat as would have congealed the very 
blood and stood on end the very hair, as the novel- 
writers put it, of a less wilful girl. But Isabella, it 
seems, was her father's " own child." And the louder 
he thundered, the angrier he grew, the more ho 
tore his hair, the bigger and fiercer grew his threats, 
the more cool and determined Isabella grew. "I 
have chosen Ferdinand de Soto for my husband," said 
she, in a tone that herfiither had long since learned to 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 73 

dread. "Storm and tlireaten, tret and rave as you 
will, but in all remember this : Isabella is not turned 
from her choice. Either she marries De Soto or she 
retires to the Convent, where at least she may pass 
her days in peace and quiet." With these tragic 
words, the haughty lady swept from the room leaving 
the enraged father pacing back and forth, back and 
forth, like an animal at bay. 

The weeks passed on. De Soto still proudly held 
to his right to sue for Isabella's hand ; Isabella held 
firmly and defiantly to her determination ; the father 
still fretted and fumed. 



DON PEDRO TAKES DE SOTO TO AMERICA. 

It was under these romantic conditions that De 
Soto set forth to the new world, joining the great 
band of adventurers and gold-seekers. 

Don Pedro himself had been for five years in the 
colony of Darien and was now fitting out a second 
expedition. 

"1 will take this troublesome youth with me to 
Darien," said the savage Don Pedro. He shall be 
sent upon the most dangerous expeditions, into the 



74 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 

fiercest battle — he shall be killed — murdered — shot 
down like a dog. I'll teach him — miserable, penni- 
less beggar — to sue for the hand of a daughter of Don 
Pedro de Avila." 

So feignmg a partial reconciliation — just to avoid 
suspicion — Don Pedro offered to take De Soto with 
him, promising him opportunities for making in this 
new world a name for himself, and above all acquiring 
riches. "Having done all this," insinuated Don 
Pedro, "there might be some hopes of your gaining 
my consent to seek an alliance with my family." 

De Soto, young and trusting, knowing little of 
baseness and the cruelty of the world, gladly and 
hopefully accepted this opportunity, and with a light 
heart set forth to seek his fortune. 

It was at just the time when the names of Cortez 
and Pizarro were on every tongue ; and all Europe 
seemed wild Avith excitement, and ambition for wealth 
and fame. The New World with its strange people 
and its wonderful mines of gold was the dream of the 
hour ; and so to the young De Soto it seemed the 
grandest possible thing that Don Pedro should offer 
him this opportunity to build up for himself fame and 
wealth. 

Isabella, however, knowing ])etter than De Soto 
did, the cruel character of her father, was not deceived. 
"Be watchful," said she to De Soto, as they met for 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 75 

the last time before parting ; " remember that one 
treacherous friend is to be feared above a thousand 
enemies." 



THE SPANISH COLONY. 

No account of the voyage is found in history ; but 
we hear that the Heet arrived in safety ; and armed in 
their heavy coats of mail, mounted on powerful war- 
horses ; armed with muskets and cannon ; a pack of 
cruel blood-hounds at their command, the Spaniards 
prepared to swoop down upon the helpless natives. 

Don Pedro himself was a perfect monster of cruelty. 
Putting De Soto in command of a troop of horses he 
sent him on expedition after expedition into the very 
heart of the unknown forests, into the very midst of 
danger. 

We are glad to remember that in these days De 
Soto's name is never found in the stories of Don 
Pedro's brutal acts. We are glad to read that De 
Soto was a youth of good heart and honorable intents. 
Often in these days, so historians tell us, he even 
dared disobey the commands of his governor rather 
than carry out his cruel requirements. 

"We are all here for conquest and for gold," he 
would say ; "but we need not be brutal." 



76 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 



DE SOTO FIGHTS A DUEL. 

In a pretty little valley nestling among the hills, 
lay a quiet, peaceful Indian village. The natives had 
in their dealings with the white men, been always kind 
and cordial, always generous with food and aid. 

"Never mind all that," bellowed the coarse-souled 
Don Pedro. "These villagers, I suspect, have gold 
within their houses ; and gold is what we are here to 
get ; and gold we are to get at any cost. I command 
that De Soto go at once, fire the village, put the 
women and children to the sword, and bring to me 
that gold." 

A more revolting order than this could hardly have 
been put upon De Soto. 

"Go at once," ordered Don Pedro. "Go to De 
Soto, give him my order ; and if he rebels, see that he 
is whipped — ivhipped^ I say, into obedience." 

Captain Perez, a man after Don Pedro's own heaii;, 
delivered the governor's message. 

Indignant that such an order should be put upon 
him, De Soto, his heart bursting with honest rage, 
returned these words : " Tell Don Pedro my life and 
my services are always at his command when the duty 
to be done is not brutal. In this case, Captain Perez, 
I think the governor would have showed finer insight 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 77 

had he ordered you to do this deed of butchery 
rather than me." 

Captain Perez was raging. "Think you," stormed 
he, as he carried the message to Don Pedro, "that I 
will take such insult from that lad — that mere boy?" 

Don Pedro was delighted. "Certainly not," an- 
swered he. "No brave cavalier like you would for 
an instant be expected to pass over such an insult." 

"I shall challenge him to a duel, and I, who have 
the name of being the most expert swordsman in the 
colony, I, who am a veteran soldier, I, who have in 
many a duel before killed my man, will now show you 
that Captain Perez has not yet grown so old and 
weak ; has not so far lost his courage and skill that he 
bows before a penniless beggar lad." 

At once the challenge w^as given. De Soto and 
Perez met with drawn swords in the presence of all 
the officers and a great gathering of the colonists. 

"De Soto's doom is sealed," said they. "He might 
as well surrender now at once. There is no hope 
with such a foe as Perez." 

For two long hours the two parried blows with 
little effect. De Soto had received a few trifling 
wounds ; but such skill did he show, that his opponent, 
wholly unprepared for such a display, was surprised 
and baffled. The officers began to applaud De Soto ; 
the herd of lookers-on cheered him at every stroke. 



78 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 

Perez g-rew ano^ry ; and as usual when anerer orets 
the upper hand, judgment was lost. He lost control ; 
made a foolish thrust, and himself received a deep 
wound in the wrist. 

His sword dropped and De Soto springing upon 
him threw him to the ground. 

How the people cheered ! " Your life — ask you for 
your life?" coolly demanded De Soto, holding the 
sword over the fallen foe. 

" Never !" growled Perez — "never will I beg my 
life of such as you ! " 

De Soto waited. But the proud duellist, for the 
first time in his life defeated, lay angry and sullen. 

"Very well," replied De Soto, returning his sword 
to its scabbard ; " the life that is not worth asking for 
is not worth taking." Then bowing right and left to 
the people gathered about, he quietly withdrew from 
the field, the hero of the hour. 

As to Perez, so angry and humiliated was he, that 
he threw up his commission and gladly returned to 
Spain ; and so the new world was well rid of one of 
the crudest of all the cruel Spaniard adventurers. 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 79 



URACCA, THE INDIAN CHIEF. 

In the northern part of this Isthmus of Durien lived 
an Indian chief, Uracca. He was a warrior of unusual 
intelligence ; and aroused ])y the l)rutal deeds of the 
Spaniards, understanding the danger ahead for his 
people unless the Spaniards could be driven out, he 
raised a large army and swooped down upon them. 

So quickly and quietly did he work, that the Span- 
iards knew nothing of his plans until his army stood 
close at hand. 

Armed as the Spaniards were, and though strongly 
protected, still a shower of poisoned arrows from 
twenty thousand angry warriors was not a pleasant 
thing to anticipate. 

" It is we ourselves that have taught these natives 
cruelty," said De Soto ; " we have hunted them down 
with blood-hounds ; we have cut off their hands with 
our swords ; we have fed their children to our 
dogs ; we have tortured them at slow fires, and cast 
their wives and children into the flames. Can we 
expect them now to be more merciful than we have 
been?" 

" We must not allow these savages to fall upon us ! " 
ordered Don Pedro. " We must advance — meet 
them — surprise them — throw them into confusion ! " 



80 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 

So, dividing his army into two parties, he advanced. 
At the same time he sent a division to attack the vil- 
higes of Uracca's countiy, hoping thus to call the 
chief's attention off and oblige him to break up his 
forces to defend his villages. 

The two vessels containing the soldiers who were 
to attack the villages were soon seen and reported to 
Uracca by his keen-sighted scouts. 

But Uracca had learned the ways of the Spanish 
military, and at once understood this movement. 

" Let them land — let them advance ! " said he 
coolly. Then stationing his troops, several thousand 
in number, about on the hills, he quietly awaited 
the advancing army of the Spaniards. How 
gayly their plumes nodded in the breeze ! how their 
armor glittered and sparkled ! how the peals of the 
trumpets echoed through the valleys ! 

Once all this would have struck terror to the Indian 
heart. But Uracca had grown to hate rather than 
fear the white foe. 

On marched the proud Spanish army, Espinosa at 
their head. Accustomed as he had been to ride rough- 
shod over the terror-stricken Indians, he was hardly 
conscious of the foe. But whiz ! whiz ! whiz ! came a 
shower of arrows. Whiz! whiz! whiz! and another 
followed. The air w^as black with them ! they came 
from all directions ! Down poured the Indians, 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 81 

twenty to one Spaniard, from every hill, from behind 
every rock and tree. 

Shrieking in agony from the deadly poison of the 
Indian arrow, the Spaniards fell dying on every side. 
"To the ships! to the ships!" cried Espinosa ; and 
away they fled, helter-skelter. The rout of the 'Span- 
iards was perfect. Panic-stricken they ran for their 
lives. The Indians pursued. 

De Soto with a band of horsemen was not far away. 
The noise of battle reached his ears — the shouts of 
the Indian warriors and the cries of the flying Span- 
iards. 

Putting spurs to their horses the horsemen hurried 
forward over hills and rocks, across ravines, down 
precipices they rushed — rushing at last across the 
open country. 

The Indians, horror-stricken at this unexpected ar- 
rival of the much dreaded horsemen, stood aghast I 
They halted in their pursuit. Espinosa, catching sight 
of De Soto's troops, took heart and turned upon the 
foe from whom an instant before he had been flying 
for life. 

De Soto's cavalry taking the position of rear guard, 
the Indians cautiously followed, hurling, now and then, 
an arrow, but keeping always at a safe distance. 

Thus the retreat to the ships was safely conducted, 
and the Spaniards were for this time saved. 



82 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 

The sun was sinking behind the hills. Night was 
coming on. Indian bands were drawing together 
from all directions. The Spaniards were weighed 
down with anxiety and fear. Pizarro with two-hun- 
dred men joined De Soto's little band. 

As darkness settled down the hideous clamor of the 
natives was hushed ; but well did the Spaniards know 
that morning would bring with it another battle scene. 

All night long Pizarro and Espinosa held council of 
war. 

" There is little hopes of getting out of the reach of 
these natives alive," said one, '' if we meet them in 
battle on the morrow." 

" We certainly have no hope of defeating them," 
answered the other. 

And so these two brave generals made an inglorious 
plan to steal away under the protection of the dark- 
ness, leaving the field to Uracca. 

"Shame upon such cowardice I " thundered De Soto. 
'' Not only is such a thought a disgrace to the Spanish 
arms, but think what an advantage such a moment 
WT)uld give the natives over us ! Spaniards in armor, 
with guns, with horse > sneaking away in the night! 
Away with such cowardice ! Let us up and to battle ! 
Die if need be, but die like soldiers I " 

But De Soto was only answered with a sneer. 

"Veteran captains like Espinosa and Pizarro, hardly 



FERDIN'AND DE SOTO. 83 

need the advice of hot-brained youth," said they 
angrily. 

And so at midnight, as silently and secretly as pos- 
sible the Spaniards commenced their retreat. 

But to their surprise they found Uracca and his 
allies not so sound asleep as they had thought. Ur- 
acca, too, had scouts stationed here, there and every- 
where, wide awake, and on the alert to report every 
movement of the Spaniards. 

Hardly had they started forth before they were set 
upon by the Indians. Flight was then the only thing 
possible. Regardless of order or command, each Span- 
iard "took to his heels," as the saying is, and ran, ran, 
ran. 

Whooping and hissing, the Indians, fleet-footed and 
urged on by vengeance, pursued. For forty-eight hours 
the Indians kept closely at their heels, hurling their 
poisoned arrows, and now and then falling upon and 
killing those who from exhaustion sank by the way. 

De Soto's men, clad in their heavy armor were safe 
from the arrows and escaped unharmed. 

Only fifty of the men of Pizarro and Espinosa sur- 
vived. These few reaching the ships, put out to sea 
and sailed quickly away. 

Sullen and angry at their disastrous and disgraceful 
campaign, they fell upon a little village several leagues 
down the shore — a defenceless little village of women 



84 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 

and children, for the warriors were with Uracca, — 
sacked the houses, destroyed the crops, and captured 
all the Avomen and children for the slave market. 

The generous spirit of De Soto was aroused. 
"Shame upon you, to attack defenceless Avomen and 
children ! Was it not cowardly enough to creep away 
in retreat l)efore a band of naked, unarmed natives, 
that you should add this dastardly deed to your re- 
cord?" 

"I brook no insult from a boy like you. Another 
word and I report you to the Governor for mutiny," 
bellowed Espinosa, making up in noise and bluster 
what he lacked in genuine bravery and honor. 

De Soto turned upon his heel in disgust. Ordering 
his troops to mount their horses, and riding proudly 
at their head he approached the tent of Espinosa. 

" Senor Espinosa," said he, "the Governor placed 
me not under your command. You have no claim 
upon my obedience. I now declare that if you keep 
these prisoners you have so unjustly captured, you do 
it at your own risk. It will not ])e many hours l)e- 
fore the Avarriors of this village Avill be upon us to 
claim their wives and children. I declare on my 
solemn oath, and by all I hold sacred, that when they 
come they shall meet with no foe in my troops. 
Decide for yourself Avhether Avithout my troops you 
are able to meet these justly-enraged Avarriors." 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 85 

Espinosa fotimed with rage. In the midst of this, 
the iiatiA'es began to pour into the village demanding 
the surrender of the captives. De Soto's troop quietly 
withdrew. What could Espinosa with his handful of 
tired-out soldiers hope to do in the face of these hun- 
dreds of war-painted warriors I 

Ungraciously enough Espinosa gave up his captives, 
everyone. 

Then De Soto and one other dragoon set out with 
all possible speed for the headquarters of the Gover- 
nor, Don Pedro. Informing the Governor of all that 
had happened, another general was sent to take Espin- 
osa's command, and with him forty men, all that could 
at that time he spared from the garrison. 

Meantime Uracca, having learned the wretched con- 
dition of Espinosa's men, had very ingeniously cut off 
all retreat by j^osting bands of Indians at every point. 
So alert were these little bands that Espinosa dared 
not venture a league from his stronghold, even for 
food. 

Half-starved, sick and dying they anxiously awaited 
the return of De Soto. At last he came — with only 
forty men I Affairs looked dubious indeed. 

Meantime a force of four hundred adventurers from 
Spain arrived at Don Pedro's colony. 

NcA^er was help more opportune, never so welcome ! 

Of these, fully one-half were trained soldiers, and 



S^ FERDINAND DE SOTO. 

the rest fully made up in cruel zeal and eagerness for 
adventure and plunder what they lacked in skill. 

With this hard, lawless band, so worthy of their 
leader, Don Pedro himself set out to the villao^e 
recently burned by Espinosa's troops. On reaching 
the village he made a most bombastic speech to his 
men, reminding them of the glory of the Spanish 
name, and stimulating in them their, already strong 
love of gold. 

On the bank of the river Arva, Uracca had collected 
his forces, and had spread them along through the moun- 
tain passes to cut off the approach of the Spaniards. 

With five hundred men, a force gotten together 
only with the greatest difficulty, Don Pedro advanced. 

Down showered the javelins and arrows from Urac- 
ca's warriors The natives stood nobly on the defence. 
Back, back retreated the Spaniards. The cavalry, 
tangled and blocked among the trees* and rocks, 
behind every one of which were natives ready with 
arrows w\as put to flight. The soldiers followed. 
Hotly pursued, the Spaniards fled before their angry 
foe. Night came on, and the Spaniards gladly 
encamped upon the open plain where the Indians had 
driven them. They, flushed with success, hastened 
back to report the good tidings to Uracca. 

And noAv Uracca adopted a stratagem that com- 
pletely deceived the Spaniards. 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 87 

He allowed several of hi.s warriors to l)e taken 
prisoners ; then when Don Pedro, with threats of tor- 
ture, demanded that they lead the Spaniards to some 
place where gold could be found, the captives pretend- 
ing great reluctance, and letting fall now and then a 
word that should excite the curiosity and hope of the 
Spaniards, led their captors to a place a few leagues 
distant where the precious metal could be obtained in 
abundance. 

Don Pedro, his wisdom clouded by his cupidity, fell 
easily into the trap. Selecting forty of his best men, 
he sent them with the caj)tives to the place in which 
the gold was to be found. 

Like a tornado Uracca's warriors, every w^here hidden 
among the rocks and bushes, swooped upon the gold 
seekers, putting all but three to death. These, white 
and breathless with fear, reached the Spanish camp 
Avith tidings of the disaster. 

Don Pedro, the more angry that he himself had 
been thus decoyed, dragged forth the remaining cap- 
tives, put them to every conceivable torture and threw 
them to the l)lo()d-hounds. Yelling and dancing like a 
fiend, he watched the poor natives as the dogs with 
their l)lo()dy fangs tore them liml) from liml), devour- 
ing their quivering flesh. The natives bore their ter- 
rible punishment with a fortitude and heroism that 
even the Spaniards could not ])ut admire. 



88 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 

"Are Uracca's warriors all like these?" said Don 
Pedro, savagely, as he watched their sufterino-. 

Don Pedro's expedition thus tar had proved a most 
humiliating defeat. A full fourth of his forces had 
been lost and the future looked black indeed. 

There seemed nothing to do l)ut to retreat. Uracca's 
forces were ten times greater in numl^er than the 
Spanish ; they knew the country ; and alcove all had 
at their head a chief of unusual wisdom and under- 
standing in methods of warfare. Not once did he 
allow an engagement to take place upon the open field, 
where without doubt the Spaniards could easily, with 
their nmsketry and grape shot, have cut down the long 
lines of Indians. 

The Spaniards were now panic-stricken ; and long 
after Uracca, seeing that the Spaniards were really 
retreating from his territory, gave up the pursuit, they 
lived in constant fear. The boughs of the trees, the 
very grass seemed to them alive with Indian warriors ; 
and if ever they turned their eyes to the seas, there 
too, they saw the waves covered with the canoes of 
their angry foe. 

The comparison l)etween Uracca, the heathen chief, 
and Don Pedro, the pretended Christian, is in every 
respect creditable to Uracca. He fought only in 
defence of his own country, and dropped all persecu- 
tion as soon as the Spaniards really left his realms. 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 89 

He engaged in no aggressive movements whatever. 
The barbarism of the Spaniards even did not provoke 
him to retaliation. Although the Spaniards so merci- 
lessly put to the sword or sold into slavery the wives 
of the natives, Uracca, when at one time a Spanish 
lady fell into his hands as prisoner, treated her with 
as much delicacy and tenderness as he would have 
shown his own daughter, and took her back, at the 
very first opportunity, to the Spanish camp. 



DE SOTO JOINS PIZARRO. 

Don Pedro's hatred of De Soto had in all this time 
been increasing. There is nothing so exasperates a 
bad man as the presence of a good man. De Soto had 
been of the greatest value in the war with Uracca, had 
been always brave, daring, and willing to put himself 
in the thickest of the light. The soldiers loved and 
respected him, knowing how true and brave he was, 
and how much they owed him. Don Pedro, however, 
would gladly have put De Soto to death had he dared ; 
often he planned his death ])ut as often in one way or 
another De Soto escaped. 



90 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 

Thus live years passed on — weary years they were 
to De Soto whose nature found no enjoyment in this 
cruel plunderinir ; this shuightering of the natives ; this 
trani})ling down of vilhiges, firing of houses, and mas- 
sacring of women and little children. 

Don Pedro grew every day more clearly an enemy 
to be watched and dreaded. Xo word in all these 
years had come from the beautiful Isabella, no gold 
had been found, no fame acquired, and on the whole 
De Soto felt that such a life in such a i)lace and among 
such peo})le was hardly Avorth the living. 

AVhen, therefore, Pizarro, who had meantime gone to 
Peru, and was now in starvation, sickness and danger 
miserably reaping the just harvest of his cruel treat- 
ment of the natives there, sent to Don Pedro for aid, 
De Soto recklessly consented to set out with a fleet to 
join Pizarro in his conquest of that country. 

" Murdering here or murdering there — what matters 
it ? " said De Soto, wearily. " There is no honor in such 
wars as these.'' 

And Don Pedro, who held Pizarro's undertaking as 
a most hopeless, a])surd scheme, sure to be ill-fated, 
looked now upon it as the happiest possible invention 
of an insane adventurer's brain if only it served to put 
an end to De Soto's life. 

"Go," said Don Pedro, in an underbreath ; "go, 
and Heaven grant you never live to return." 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 91 



THE DEATH OF THE PERUVIAN INCA. 

You remem])er in the story of Pizarro in Peru, that 
at one time, while the Inca was held prisoner, Pizarro 
promised him his liberty in exchanofe for a certain 
amount of treasure. 

You remember that the delighted Inca, honest- 
hearted himself and supposino' Pizarro to be at least 
equally so, since he claimed to belong to so much 
nobler a race of men, sent his couriers east and west, 
north and south to announce their ruler's possible free- 
dom. You remember how generousl}^ how freely the 
loving subjects poured their richest treasures at Pizar- 
ro's feet, forgetting all their sufferings, forgiving all 
their cruel wrongs in the one great joy of seeing their 
Inca free again. 

And then, you renieml)er, when the city was tilled 
to overHowing with the unstinted gifts of the people, 
when gold enough lay spread before the Spaniards to 
send them every one back to Spain richer than the 
richest of Spanish lords, — then Pizarro, unprincipled, 
selfish man that he was, refused to liberate his prisoner, 
sneered at the ambassadors who plead for him, scorned 
the threats and just demands of the people, and piti- 
lessly ordered the Inca back to his prison. 

Of all the mean acts of Pizarro this stands out in his 



92 FERDIXAXD DE SOTO. 

histiu'v as the meanest ot' theiu all. ^^'lu)lly unealled 
for, deliberately }ilanned. oppc^sed to all the laws of 
liDnorahle wartaiv, this one aet o\' Pizano's tells 
against him no matter how brave, how daring, how 
siueessful his career may otherwise have been. 

It is possible, perhaps it is true, that Pizarro did 
mean in the outset to free the Inea honorably : but 
now, the tretisure all brought tmd carefully stored 
away he suddenly came to the conclusion that it would 
be a fatal thing to free the Inca now. '' AVhy," said he, 
''this Inca free — loved and worshipped as he is, by his 
people, would raise an army that would grind our lit- 
tle force to }iowder ! ** 

"True enough," answered De Soto, fearlessly : "but 
you >lundd have thought of that before you pledged 
your honor." 

" At least we can delay the peril a few weeks ! " 

'* Not one day ! This Inca has your promise and he 
has mine that he shall l>e free ! " 

"But since making the promise, I have learned of 
plots and conspiracies in which this Inca is already 
eno-ao-ed. Think what that argues for the future when 
he is released ! " 

" I do not believe it," answered De Soto. " That 
may l)e the Spaniard nature : it is not the Peruvian." 

Pizarro drew his sword, his face hot with anger. 
De Soto drew his sword, ///.> face quiet with scorn. 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 93 

An an<rry controversy followed. Neither would 
yield. At la.st Pizarro, determined that at any cost 
the Inca should die, said, "You do not believe nie, I 
can prove to you that what I :^ay i^ true. At this 
moment in a certain mountain pass, the Peruvians 
are irathering for an attack u}Kjn us here. Go, you 
with your dra;ioons, to the jjlace ; and if you tind 
there no signs of war, no .-i2"ns of conspiracy, I jjrom- 
ise 3'^ou on your return that the Inca shall be released. ' 

"I go," said De Soto quietly. 

Once more Pizarro's perfidy had conquered : for no 
sooner had the clattering of De Soto's horses died away 
in the distance than preparations were made for the 
burning of the Inca. 

A stake was set, the fagots piled up, a mock trial 
arranged at which the Inca was " found guilty.'' Then 
w^aiting only for the sun to go down that darkness 
might throw its covering over this cruel unjust deed, 
the Inca was led forth, fastened to the stake and 
burned. 

This was the evening of August 29, 1533. Two 
hours after sunset, to the sound of the trumpet, sur- 
rounded by the Spanish soldiers with their lurid 
torches, the Inca, manacled hand and foot, pushed him- 
self across the great stone square to the heap of fagots. 

When De Soto returned and heard what had been 
done ; when he saw that his errand to the mountains 



94 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 

had been but an artitice to get him away, he was 
beside himself with rage. 

Pushing aside the sentinel, he strode into the tent 
ofPizaiTo. ''You villain," he burst forth, ''is it not 
enough that I am disgraced in being ever associated 
with }'ou in such a barbarous affair as this conquest of 
Peru ? Is it not enough that you have time and time 
again disgraced me ])efore the officers? Is it not 
enough that you have defrauded me at every turn of 
wealth and fame? And do you now, knowing that I 
with you had pledged my honor that the Inca should 
be protected from any cruelty, dare do this thing that 
involves my honor as well iis your own? AVell do 
you know that this murder — for it is nothing more 
honorable than murder — is a cruel and base a deed as 
ever you stained your honor with ! Well do you 
know that your report of insurrection along the road 
was a lie. No where have I met anything l)ut honest 
welcome and hearty good-will. The whole country is 
quiet, and yoii know full well that this Inca has been 
foully, basely slandered. And you, Francisco Pizarro, 
ar^ both his slanderer and his murderer. Villain that 
you have proved yourself, it shall be proved that I, 
Ferdinand De Soto, am not associated with you in 
this brutal, contemptible defiance of all law — human 
anil divine. I challenge you to honorable combat ; 
and if you refuse, I swear I will denounce you to the 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 95 

King- of Spain as the coward and assasin that you 
are ! " 

Knowing what we do of Pizarro's character, we are 
not surprised that he trembled before the just violence 
of his daring officer. Coward-like he began to make 
excuses — to say this one, that one, and the other one 
influenced him and urged him on ; that he had only 
done what seemed to him best, although perhaps he 
had acted hastily. 

De Soto, more disgusted, if possible Avith these 
cringing apologies and mean excuses than he had been 
with the murder of the Inca, threw up his commission 
as lieutenant and declared his intention of leaving for 
Spain. But just now reinforcements had arrived from 
Panama. All Peru, aroused by the murder of its 
king, was up and in arms. From every quarter the 
loyal natives were hastening forward to avenge their 
wrongs. Fifty thousand Peruvians ! the mountain 
passes, the plains, the long roads, seemed swarming 
with them ! AVhat could a few Spaniards avail against 
such a foe as this ! Truly to return to Spain in such 
an hour of peril seemed to De Soro a cowardly thing 
to do. " I owe it," reasoned he, " to my king and to 
my country that I stand here, until this peril is passed." 

Pizairo, glad enough to keep him, knowing full well 
his need of all the help at hand, arranged with De Soto 
for the comino^ struoo^le. 



96 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 

In the beautiful month of September, down through 
the rich valley of the Cordilleras the Spanish army 
marched, burning, ravaging, murdering ; their course 
for miles and miles marked by death and desolation. 

Much as there was that was noble inDe Soto, much 
as we find in him to admire, we cannot defend our hero 
in the part he took in this cruel march against these 
innocent people. No one, if history tells us true, was 
more defiant, more cruel, more desperate than De 
Soto. He it was who always led the advance ; his 
sword it was that opened every path through which 
the plundering, murdering Spaniards followed. 

The staiKlard of right and wrong was not very high 
in these days, I fear, even among the best of men, and 
duty to king and country was supposed to far outstrip 
duty to one's fellow-creatures. Thus De Soto reasoned. 
The Conquest of Peru ! — a tribute to the king ! — 
added glory to Spain ! — these were the watch-words 
of the hour. 



DE SOTO RETURNS TO SPAIN. 

Peru at last was conquered. Although Pizarro's 
name shows out as the leader in every enterprise, still 
there were many who held that the cool-headed, fear- 
less De Soto was, the real conqueror. 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 97 

At any rate, on his return to Spain in 1534, he was 
received with the grandest honors his country could 
offer him. These, whether he deserved them or not, 
he did not refuse to accept ; and, with his immense 
fortune acquired in Peru, took his place among the 
proudest grandees of Spain. 

Meantime the beautiful Isabella's father had died. 
True to his nature, his last thought was of bitterness 
and hate tow ards these loyal children of his whose love 
for each other had begun when, as little children they 
had played among the flowers about the old gray castle. 

"I only regret," said he, dying, "that I cannot 
reach them from the grave '; that I cannot keep them 
ocean-wide-apart as I have kept them these fifteen 
years. O, I hate that man De Soto. He has defied 
me at every turn. Death itself would not take him. 
Ah, more bitter than death to me is the thought that 
he triumphs over me. But my wealth he shall not 
have. Never shall he look out upon my lands and 
say ' These are mine.' Never shall he stand in 
my ancestral halls. Bring the friar to me — now- — 
at once. Witness, all, that I do bequeath my riches 
to the Church — let a monastery be built — a church 
erected — see to it that my ungrateful daughter and 
her villainous lover thrive not upon my riches ! " And 
so in an agony of pain, his last moments embittered 
by hate, the cruel Don Pedro died. 



98 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 

Little could Isabella mourn the loss of such a father ; 
and little did the loss of her own wealth matter either 
to Isabella or to De Soto. Their marriage was cele- 
brated with a grand wedding; and, selecting the most 
princely mansion of Seville for their home, for two 
long years they dwelt in perfect happiness and luxury, 
surrounded with servants, received at court, their 
house thronged with friends and flatterers — the world 
looked very bright to them. 

But now De Soto found that even his enormous for- 
tune could not last forever. Two years more of such 
luxurious life and it would be gone. 

Somethins: must be done and as it was not the fash- 
ion in those days for gentlemen to live within their 
means or to quietly set themselves about some honest 
business, De Soto's thoughts began to turn again 
toward the land of adventure . 

Reports of the newly discovered Florida began to 
engage the interest of the people. One adventurer 
wrote a glowing account of its inexhaustible mines of 
gold and silver; its wonderful climate, its rich soil, its 
great cities with their golden buildings studded with 
precious stones. 

Extravagant stories these ; but the Spanish people, 
De Soto among the rest, were willing enough to be- 
lieve them all. 

Accordingly he applied to the king for ships and 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 99 

men, promising to explore and conquer the country 
and return one-tifth of all its wealth to the crown. 
The King, having great faith in De Soto as an adven- 
turer, and ])eing, as kings were apt to be in those days, 
often in need of more money, readily granted De 
Soto's request. 

Ships were fitted out, a selected army of a thousand 
young, vigorous soldiers w^as formed; and loaded with 
honors from the king, De Soto set forth. 

Never before had an expedition so a])undantly su| - 
plied sailed out from Spanish harbor ; among the sol- 
iers were many Spanish nobles. Isabella with her train 
of attendants, radiant in her rich robes and sparkling 
jewels sailed with them. 

As the fleet approached the Island of Cuba over 
which De Soto had been appointed governor, the peo- 
ple of the Spanish capital thronged to the shore, with 
music, and banners, and grand procession to give a 
suitable reception to their new Governor and his 
beautiful wife. 



THE LANDING IN FLORIDA. 

In due time, with a fleet of eight large ships freighted 
with everything that could be needful to conquer the 
country and then to colonize it, De Soto with his 
thousand armed men and his three-hundred and fifty 



100 



FERDIXAND DE SOTO. 




FERDINAND DE SOTO. 101 

horses made their slow passage across the gulf to the 
shores of the l)eautiful sunny Florida. 

Entering the harbor of Tampa Bay they saw l^lazing 
from the high places, beacon fires. 

"We shall have no easy time in this adventure," 
said De Soto as he noted the long lines of lights. 
" Too well is the reputation of the white man known 
among these natives ; and we may 1)e sure that these 
lights along the shore are camp-fires, and that the peo- 
ple are already in arms against us." 

Several days were employed in careful search for a 
suitable landing. At last a detachment of three hun- 
dred men i)ushed to the shore and took possession in 
the name of Charles the Fifth, King of Spain. 

Such a quiet, warm beautiful night ! Not an Indian 
to be seen ; and the soft moonlight falling upon the 
luxuriant l)loom and fruitage of the l)eautiful shore 
gave it an air of real enchantment. " Pascua Florida ! 
Pascua Florida I " said the soldiers to each other re- 
calling the beautiful name which so many years ])efo re, 
the dreamy, castle-l)uilding Ponce de Leon had given 
the land. 

But the Spaniards were not the sort of men to he 
long content with the rich beauties of nature. A bit 
of gold was far more entrancing to their sordid vision 
than all the fiowers of the earth. A grand, uplifting 
mountain-peak told them nothing unless among its 
crags were hidden precious stones. 



102 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 

Too well did the natives realize this ; too well did 
they know that to them the landing of the white man 
meant war and death. Waiting until the first faint 
streaks of gray light spread across the sky, with a war- 
whoop that rang through the forests like the yell of 
fiends, down rushed the Indians, hurling upon the in- 
vaders showers upon showers of arrows and javelins. 

So sudden and so fierce was the attack that the 
Spaniards, all unprepared, were thrown into a panic. 
Rushing for their hoats, with loud bugle cries they 
called for aid from the ships. Promptly, a daring, 
Spanish nobleman, Vasco Porcallo, with steel-clad 
men and horse hastened to their aid. 

Vasco Porcallo and his men leaping from the l^oats, 
putting their spurs to the horses, their sabres flashing 
in the air, plunged into the very thickest of the foe. 
The Indians, thrown into confusion by this furious 
onslaught, fled into the forests. 

All day long the troops were disembarking, and 
every preparation was made for entering the country. 

Marching to a little village six miles inland, the 
Spaniards took possession, occupying the houses of 
the inhabitants as barracks for the soldiers. A few 
Indians were taken prisoners — the rest had fled at 
the approach of the army. 

From these prisoners De Soto learned what little 
prospect there was of any friendly relations being 
established with the natives. 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 103 

" Our chief will fiofht you — our people will hate 
you," said the prisoners. "We do not forget the 
SpaniLrds who came to our country not long ago. We 
do not forget how the leader burned our villages, and 
killed our wives and children. We do not foro^et that 
with their cruel blood-hounds they tracked us through 
the forests ; that they killed the mother of our good 
chief, Ucita, and that they mutilated the face of our 
chief, and then roared with laughter at their work," 

"We have a work before us," said De Soto, "to 
teach these natives that we come with honest purpose. 
Let us be careful in our dealings with them, commit 
no unnecessary cruelties, and see that as far as it 
can be their rights are respected. The country 
must be conquered whatever the cost ; and in no 
easier way can we accomplish it than by gaining the 
confidence of these people, even were there no higher 
motive for our dealings with them." 

But De Soto's soldiers could not believe there could 
be any other way of dealing with Indians than that of 
brutality ; and though we can believe that De Soto 
w^as in the beginning honest in his intentions to deal 
honoral)ly with the natives^ we must remember that 
no military leader can control the dispositions and 
motives of his soldiers. 



104 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 



UCITA'S COURTESY TO DE SOTO. 

Again and again De. Soto sent friendly messages to 
Ucita, but received in return only these words: "I 
want no speeches, no promises from Spaniards. I 
will receive nothing from them but their heads." 

De Soto, deeming it a most unwise proceeding to 
set out for a march into the interior, leaving^ so 
powerful a tribe as Ucita's hostile to him, sent, not- 
withstanding his rebuffs, message after message to 
Ucita, telling him that no one detested the conduct of 
Narvac's, the Spaniard who had so aroused the hatred 
of these people, than did De Soto himself; that he 
earnestly Avished to do what could ])e done to repair 
the wrongs done Ucita and his people ; that it was his 
honest desire to establish friendly relations with the 
injured chief. 

At last Ucita sent this message : " The memory of 
my injuries from your people prevents my returning 
the reply you would wish to your messages ; at the 
same time your courtesy prevents my sending you a 
harsh answer. Let this suffice." 

De Soto could appreciate the grandeur of the spirit 
of this chief. " My men," said he, " we may learn a 
lesson even from this uncivilized chief. The man that 
could, under these circumstances, frame such a speech 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 105 

as that is a nobleman, whatever his race or his con- 
ditions." 

I am afraid, ahnost, that I am picturing De Soto to 
you ])etter than he really was. But he was so much 
more humane, so much more a man of principle than 
others of these times, that in comparison with them he 
stands out a hero. Still we must remember he was 
by no means a hero, or even a kind man, as compared 
with the standard of our day. He was adventurous, 
extravagant, eager for gold at almost any cost. Per- 
haps his quiet, isolated boyhood, together with the 
unjust treatment he suffered from Don Pedro may have 
had much to do with forming in him a consideration 
for the rights and the feelings of others. At any rate, 
whatever the cause, and imperfect as he was, we are 
glad at last to read about one adventurer among these 
Spaniards that approached something like the character 
of a human-hearted gentleman. 



VASCA PORCALLO AND UCITA. 

Not many days later, word came that Ucita and his 
people had taken refuge in a forest surrounded by 
swamps and morasses. 

Porcallo, strutting about, as he always was in his 
glittering armor, was highly indignant that a savage 



106 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 

should presume to hold himself aloof from friendly 
advances of a Spanish army. 

" I will capture the fugitive," said he. 

So, mounting his magnificent horse, encased in 
his orlitterino^ armor, he led his men towards the 
forest. 

Ucita was on the watch. And when he heard that 
Porcallo was advancing, he sent this message : " You 
will expose yourself to great peril in your attempt to 
reach my retreat. You know nothing of the nature of 
the morasses of our country, and any attempt to reach 
me must result only in your own loss. I send you 
this message, not that I fear you, but because your 
leader, De Soto, has shown so much consideration for 
my people. 

" Pshaw ! " said Porcallo, as the message was deliv- 
ered him. "Go back to your chief and tell him that 
Porcallo is not deceived by any such pretended kind- 
ness. It is a message dictated either by fear or cow- 
ardice, and it fails of its mission if Ucita, by it, 
flattered himself that we should withdraw." 

A man with no magnanimity in his own character, 
is not likely to recognize it in another. And so, vain- 
glorious, with more boldness than discretion, Porcallo 
pushed on. 

" Sound the trumpets ! sound the trumpets ! " called 
he ; and pressing on, the little band soon arrived upon 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 107 

the border of a vast and dismal morass, leagues and 
leagues in extent. 

As Ucita had said, he knew nothing of the nature 
of these morasses. Spurring his horse, he plunired 
in, supposing they could at least be waded across. 

Only a few rods, and his horse knee deep in the 
black mud, stumbled and fell. Porcallo, himself, one 
leg caught in the trappings of his horse, could not free 
himself. Deeper and deeper sank both horse and 
rider. 

The unfeeling soldiers on the borders of the morass, 
shouted with laughter at their leader's struo-o-les. 
Such was the sense of loyalty among Spaniards in 
these days ! 

At last, Porcallo, freeing himself, succeeded in drag- 
ging his bemired steed to the land. The jeering of 
his own soldiers had stung his pride. Humiliated and 
enraged, he sullenly ordered his men to return to the 
camp. Throwing up his commission in disgust, he sailed 
to Cuba, much to the regret of the army who, under 
all his boasting and blustering, appreciated the daring 
spirit of the man, and knew that in him they had had 
a brave bold leader, reckless though he sometimes was 
and over-quick in action. 



108 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 



MARCH TO OCHILE. 

And now a messenger from Captain Gallegas, an 
oflScer who, with a small band had been sent to expl'ore 
farther inland, and learn if possible where the gold 
regions lay, returned to the camp. 

He reported that at no long distance it was believed 
that great quantities of gold were to be found. 

De Soto and his men were elated ! " Who knows," 
said De Soto, " ]>ut we may be about to enter upon 
the conquest of another Peru ! " 

So, leaving a garrison of forty horsemen and eighty 
foot soldiers to guard the fortress, De Soto with the 
main army set forth. 

Marching in Florida, through the rough pathless 
country, through tangled fores^^^'j^i^tl great dismal 
swamps, De Soto soon found it was very different from 
that in Peru over the hard well-] milt roads. 

Losing their way, for three days and three nights 
they wandered about in the marshes, struggling through 
bog and brake, bramble and forest. "Never," as one 
of the guides afterwards wrote, "could we have found 
our path but for the sagacity of our horses. For the 
time they seemed endowed with the instinct of dogs. 
In the darkness of the night they would puff and 
snort, and with their noses close to the ground, search 
out the right tracks." 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 109 

Reaching the territory of one chief, De Soto sent to 
him that he came in friendly spirit to his territory and 
with no desire to do him injury. ''If, however," con- 
tinued the message, "you rebel, remember that we 
have it in our power to bear down upon you with ter- 
rible force ; and that the obedience we now ask of you 
we shall then demand of you to the last man." 

To this the chief sent this heroic reply : 

" You need not tell me what you are or what you 
wish to do. Others of your hated race have already 
done that. We know only too Avell that you come to 
wander up and down our country ; to rob the poor ; 
to betray the trusting ones ; to murder the defence- 
less. 

"With such as you we want no peace — no friend- 
ship. AVar — Avar — Avar is all Ave ask, all aa'c aa^iII 
have. You say you are brave and strong. So are 
my warriors brave and strong. Never Avill we become 
slaA^es of such as you. Rather do we choose death — 
yes, a hundred deaths, rather than yield ourselves or 
our country to you." 

Such seemed the spirit of the chiefs through A\iiose 
territories the Spanish army passed. 

After a long, hard march, the army neared the vil- 
lage of Ochile. It was just at daybreak. The streets 
were quiet ; the natives deep in sleep. 

Advancing quietly until on the very outskirts of the 



110 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 

village, suddenly at a signal from the leader, rattle, 
rattle, rattle went the drums, crash went the music, 
and with a clatter sprang the hundred horses upon the 
pavements. 

Out rushed the frightened people ! Had an army 
dropped from the moon they could not have been more 
amazed, more confounded ! 

The house of the chief was situated in the center of 
the city. In this great mansion — three hundred feet 
long — dwelt the chief, surrounded always by a band 
of warriors always armed and ready for battle. 

At once De Soto held an interview with the chief, 
assuring him that the Spaniards had no other wish 
than to pass peacefully through the country. The 
chief, finding himself at the mercy of the Spaniards, 
thought it wise to appear to accept the conditions with 
as good grace as possible, and so throw their unwel- 
come guests off guard. At De Soto's request couriers 
were sent to the chief's two l^rothers who were them- 
selves chiefs of neighboring tribes. 

The oldest of the three brothers was most suspicious 
of the white men. " They come for no good, be sure," 
said he : " and their smooth stories have no meaning. 
Let us be friendly with them only in appearance. Re- 
member our only safety is in killing them all — yes, 
all — even De Soto who, we grant seems to be honest. 
Meantime let us watch. I will prepare a tiap, together 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. Ill 

we will spring upon these villd$ins who have forced their 
presence upon us." 

These brothers, all three, were men of uncommon 
intelligence ; shrewd and far-seeing. 

For many days the Spaniard army rested in the 
territories of the three chiefs. De Soto, honest in his 
friendship, belie \^ed the chiefs to be honest in theirs. 
Day after day the oldest chief and De Soto walked and 
talked, feasted and drank together, seemingly the best 
of friends. 

But one day some friendly Indians whispered to 
De Soto!s officers that a plot was being formed to en- 
trap the Spaniards. De Soto could not at first believe 
it. 

"It is true," said the Indians. "The chief will 
bring his warriors out on parade — all unweaponed — 
to please you, he will say. Suddenly will he signal ; 
the warriors will seize their arms hidden in the Ions: 
grass and will fall upon you." 

The Indians seemed confident and the plot seemed 
probable. "It can do no harm to be ready," said De 
Soto, revealing the plan to his men. 

Sure enough ! only a day or two later the chief 
said to De Soto, " On tomorrow, I will parade my 
forces out upon the plain, and will show the military 
tactics of our people. You will be entertained to com- 
pare them with the European methods of war-fare." 



il 



112 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 

De Soto, assuming a friendly and most unsuspicious 
air, replied that it would indeed be a genuine pleas- 
ure. 

"And," added he, with the appearance of wishing 
to do all in his power to return the generous favor of 
his host, " I, in my turn will bring out on parade my 
soldiers. Their glittering armor will add to the scene, 
and the people of the village will have a double pleas- 
ure." 

The chief appeared a little embarrassed by this un- 
expected turn of afiairs. It was hardly in keeping 
with his plan. "Still," thought he, "even with the 
Spaniards drawn up in battle array our plot must suc- 
ceed. Let us but capture De Soto and the Spaniards 
will be thrown into confusion. Then, too, our war- 
riors out-number the Spanish troops, ten to one ! " 

So, confiding this new turn of affairs to his warriors, 
arrangements for the parade was still pushed forward. 



THE PARADE. 

The morning dawned bright and clear. Everybody 
was very busy, very anxious, full of hate ; everybody 
assumed to be very idle, very indifferent, and full of 
the sunniest good humor. 

De Soto, secretly well armed, walked along by the 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 113 

chiefs side, talking and laughing ; near by sauntered 
his body-guard, apparently with nothing to do. 

But, notwithstanding this careless air, De Soto and 
his men watched every action of the chief; not one 
movement of his hand escaped them. 

Now they were full upon the field. All was in 
readiness. De Soto stood in the very midst of his foe. 
The signal was given. Instantly the attendants fell 
upon De Soto ! Instantly the ten-thousand warriors 
seized their Aveapons and with hideous, resounding 
war-whoops rushed upon the Spaniards. 

But hark ! the bugle-blast ! And see ! the body- 
guard of De Soto has turned upon the chief! The 
Spaniards in solid ranks, charge upon their foe ! 
Never did so terrible a storm burst so suddenly from 
so serene a sky ! 

Valiantly and with the ferocity of animals at bay 
did the natives fight ; but they were no match for the 
steel-clad Spaniards. All day long the slaughter — 
for it was slaughter in very truth — went on. At 
night-fall the Indians crept away into the forests ; and 
De Soto's forces with nine-hundred captives, among 
them the chief, withdrew to their barracks. 



114 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 



A SECOND CONSPIRACY. 

Notwithstanding the treachery of the chief, De Soto 
treated him, as a ca})tive, with the greatest courtesy 
and consideration. 

As much liberty as possible was granted him, and 
he was given a seat at De Soto's own table. All this 
however, could not wash from the memory of these 
Indians the cruel wrongs they had received from the 
earlier Spaniards ; all this could not convince them that 
De Soto, only with a different method of proceeding, 
had the same cruel motives of conquest and destruc- 
tion of the natives. 

Of the nine hundred captives, one had been assigned 
to each of the Spaniards as a servant to serve him in 
camp and at the ta])le. 

Noting that they stood man to man, the chief 
planned another attack upon the foe. 

Theodore Irving, in his " Conquest of Florida " tells 
the story of this second attack in the following pleas- 
ant manner : 

" Scarcely had the chief conceived the rash scheme 
of attacking the Spaniards than he hastened to put it 
into operation. To the four young Indians who were 
allowed to serve him as pages, he revealed his plan and 
sent them with it to the principal prisoners with orders 



FERDIN"AND DE SOTO. 115 

that they pass it on secretly from one to the other, 
and that all hold themselves in readiness to carry it 
into effect. 

The dinner hour of the third day Avas the time fixed 
upon for striking the l)low. The chief would be dining 
with De Soto and the Indians would be each in atten- 
dance upon his master. 

The chief was to watch his opportunity, spring upon 
De Soto and kill him, giving at the same time a war- 
wdioop which should resound throughout the village. 
The war-whoop should be the signal for each Indian to 
grapple with his master and despatch him on the 
spot. 

On the day appointed the chief was dining as usual 
by De Soto's side. Suddenly springing to his feet, 
he closed instantly with the Governor, seized him with 
the left hand liy the collar, and with his right hand 
dealt him such a blow in the face as to level him to 
the ground. The blood gushed from his eyes, his 
nose, his mouth. The chief then threw himself upon 
his victim at the same time giving the blood-curdling 
war-whoop that the Spaniards had well learned to 
fear. 

All this was the work of an instant. And before 
the officers present had time to recover from their 
surprise the governor lay senseless beneath the tiger 
grasp of the maddened chief. One more blow from 



116 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 

the savage and De Soto would have been dead. But 
out flashed a dozen swords and lances, every one 
piercing the body of the chief, and he lay lifeless 
across the body of the wounded De Soto. 

The w^ar-whoop had indeed resounded throughout 
the village. Hearing the fatal signals, the Indians, 
attending their masters, attacked them Avith whatever 
missile they could command. Some seized upon 
pikes and swords ; others snatched up pots and ket- 
tles, and, beating the Spaniards alwut the heads, 
bruised and scalded them. Some caught up the plates, 
pitchers, jars, and the pestles wherewith they pounded 
the maize. Others seized upon stools, benches, and 
tables striking right and left with impotent fury. 
Others snatched up burning tire brands and rushed 
like very devils into the aifray. Many of the Spaniards 
were terribly burned and bruised. 

This terrible assault was of short duration. Though 
the Spaniards were indeed taken hy surprise, they 
were not unarmed. Their long sharp sabres gave 
them great advantage over the natives. 

Though several were slain and many severely 
wounded, the natives were soon overpowered. The 
Spaniards exasperated, maddened, showed no mercy; 
and hundreds of the w^arriors fell before their fury." 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 



117 




ON THE ST. JOHN'S RIVER. 



ONWARD ! 

A few days later, as soon as De Soto was al)le to 
move about, they took up their line of march again 
towards the '' gold region." 

The road was hard, the natives were hostile and 
treacherous, and the soldiers suffered untold misery 
from hunger and exhaustion. But what wouldn't these 
adventurers endure for gold ! Gold, gold, gold ! 
Life or death, safety or peril, comfort or hitter hard- 
ship — they cared little, spurred on and driven on as 



118 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 

they were by their insatiable thirst, their grasping 
avarice, their insane mania for gold. 

So on and on, month after month they marched — 
always hearing of the wonderful gold country a 
little farther on. Look on your map and see the 
long irregular route of these men I Think what they 
must have suflered, what toil and struggle must have 
been theirs. It seems almost incredible that men 
could be so insanely greedy ! 

Day after day their number grew smaller ; day after 
day they grew weaker ; hope died Avithhi them as dis- 
appointment after disappointment met them. With 
indomitable energy and will De Soto dragged along 
his weary troops. Xo sounds of joy were now heard 
along the ranks. There was no longer any hope for 
cheer. 

It was wonderful the poAver De Soto held over his 
men ; it is wonderful the love they had for him and 
the confidence they had in him as day after day, sick, 
half-starved, meeting with nothing but defeat and dis- 
appointment, they willingly followed his command. 

But let us hasten along. That De Soto discovered 
the Mississippi we all know — every history will tell 
us that. For four long day the troops had been toil- 
ins- along: throuo'h a wretched dismal reirion, unin- 
habited and covered with tangled forests and almost 
impassable swamps. 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 119 

At leno^th, cominir out from the dense forests into 
the blessed sunlight, they saw rising before them a 
little Indian village. And hark ! what is that rolling, 
ruml^ling sound in the distance ! Nearer and nearer 
the ^\ eary troops drag themselves !" It sounds like the 
falling of waters ! 

Water ! Water ! Water ! For an instant the sol- 
diers believed it to be the ocean ! O, what a welcome 
sight ! Like an old friend it smiled back at them ! 
And it was enough for the tired hearts that once more 
they even looked upon the ocean — the ocean, whose 
waters reached to the shores of their long-lost homes ! 

But even this illusion was not long spared them. 
Overjoyed as they would have been to have discovered 
what they soon learned was a mighty river, w^orn out 
as they were, they had little enthusiasm to be aroused 
even ])y this great stream of an unknown river. 

On its shores, in the little village lived a tribe of 
isolated Indians who had not even heard of De Soto's 
presence in the country I 

Chisca, the chief, was an old man, feeble and bowed 
with age. In his youth he had been a renowned war- 
rior ; and when he saw the Spaniards approaching, 
instinctively judging them as enemies, he seized his 
tomahawk, eager for battle. 

Friendly messages were sent from De Soto ; but 
the old chief saw in them nothing but an invading 



120 FERDINAND DE SOTO. 

army. In only three hours a l)and of four thousand 
warriors came out from the villiage ready to attack 
their foe. 

Four thousand Indians to four hundred Spaniards ! 
This was indeed a fearful out-numbering I 

" And if four thousand warriors can ])e assembled 
in three hours," said the interpreter, fiercely "think 
how many more are in the country round ready to 
rally at our chief's call ! ". 

By great exertion on De Soto's part, a compromise 
was affected. The Spaniards were allowed six days 
to rest in, on conditions that at the end of that time 
they promi.^re to move quietly away without molest- 
ing the village or the great fields of grain. 

Gladly the Spaniards availed themselves of this 
leniency. At the end of the six days, rested and 
strengthened they marched away, along the bank of 
the great river, crossing at length at a place some 
miles farther south. 

Up and down the river along its western bank the 
little band wandered, hopeful again in the richness of 
the country spread out before them and the easy 
marching. Here and there they came upon friendly 
Indians, but more often those to whom rumors of 
former cruelties from the white man had reached. 



FERDINAND DE SOTO. 121 



DEATH OF DE SOTO. 

Care, disappointment, exhaustion had already left 
their traces upon the worn-out leader. No longer 
could he disguise the deep disappointment he felt in 
the success of this long, wearisome adventure. His 
step became feel)le, he grew thin and weak, his face 
haggard and worn. 

Weaker and weaker he grew, until the most hope- 
ful of his followers could not but see that their brave 
leader had fought his last Ixattle. 

Calmly he prepared for death. Calling his men alwut 
him, he administered to them the oath of allegiance to 
the officer whom he chose as his successor. 

Tenderly he spoke with them all, thanked them 
for their loyalty and faithful following through the 
long, perilous adventures. 

These war-worn, faithful veterans wept bitterly as 
their leader bade them farewell. 

" Let us at least protect the dead body of our leader 
from the insults of the natives," said they, when he was 
breathing his last. " Too gladly would they drag him 
forth from his grave and l^urn him, or throw him to 
the dogs. Let us bury him m the waters of this 
mighty river which, as a reward for his long months 
of hardship, our good Father permitted him, at the 
very end, to discover." 



122 



FERDINAND DE SUTO, 




FERDINAND DE SOTO. 123 

Accordingly in the niglit, covered by its awful dark- 
ness, a few loving officers, having hewn out a rude 
casket from the trunk of a great oak, bore the dead 
body out into the river, and with quiet and secrecy 
sank it in the still black waters. 

Thus ended, in his forty-second year, the life of 
Ferdinand De Soto. From babyhood his life had 
been one of hardship and disappointment. Little as 
he would compare with the standard of a noble, gen- 
erous, gentleman in our times, it is with pleasure that 
we think of him among the long line of greedy, cruel, 
unprincipled fortune-seekers of his day, standing out 
amid the influences and the temptations of his times, a 
noble-meaning, humane-feeling, honorably-dealing 
man, an honest adventurer, and a brave, unflinching 
soldier. 



124 MEMORY GEMS. 



MEMORY GEMS. 



Not when u hero falls, 

The sound a world appalls ; 

For while we plant his cross, 

There is a glory even in the loss. 

But when some craven heart , 

From lionor dares to part, — 

Then, then the groan the blanching cheek, 

Hnd men in whispers speak ; 

Nor kith nor country daie reclaim 

From the black depths, his name. 

— E. C. Stedman. 



Fling abroad our starry banner 

To the pure, fresh northern blast, 
Sanctified by present glory 

And the memory of the past ! 
Beat our drums beneath its waving. 

Blow our bugles loud and clear. 
And the brave, inspiring music 

Let mankind's enslavers hear ! 



— Anon. 



Columbia ! Columbia ! to glory arise. 

The queen of the world, and the child of the skies. 

— Timothy D wight. 



O land ! of every land the best, 

O land I whose glory shall increase, 
Now, in your whitest raiment drest 
For the great festival of peace, 



MEMORY GEMS. 125 

Take from your flag its folds of gloom, 

And let it float undimmed above, 

Till over all our vales shall bloom 

The sacred colors that we love. 

— Phcebe Cart, 



Our country forever ! On the folds of her flag 

This motto of freemen is blazoned full high ; 
Run up the proud ensign, from the loftiest crag 

Of liberty's steep let it float to the sky. 

Float freely forever, our banner of stars ! 

Wave, wave on the breath of freemen's huzzas ! 
Our country forever, let time tell the story, 
O country forever, unending her glory. 



— Anon. 



There, on the field of battle. 

Lies the young warrior, dead. 
Who shall speak in the soldier's honor? 

How shall his praise be said? 
Cannon, there in tlie battle. 

Thundered the soldier's praise. 
Hark ! how the volumed volleys echo , 

Down through the far-off days ! 
Tears for the grief of a father, 

For a mother's anguish, tears ; 
But for him that died for his country, 

Glory and endless years ! 



W. D. HOWELLS. 



When banners are waving, and lances a-pushing ; 
When captains are shouting, and war-horses rushing ; 
When cannon are roaring, and liot bullets flying, 
.He that would honor win must not fear dying. 

— Anon. 



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